


The Cat of the House

by trickyDingo



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, Pet Play, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-05-13
Updated: 2014-05-31
Packaged: 2017-11-05 08:12:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 20
Words: 67,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/404217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trickyDingo/pseuds/trickyDingo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dave discovers something unusual about Bro; he has a thing for cats. Trying to pay Bro back for all the years of teasing, Dave decides to act as much like a cat as he can. What starts as a game of "annoy your older brother" turns quickly into something very different than Dave intended. </p><p>Edit: PESTERLOGS FIXED FINALLY!<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, I was reading [ Prince's ](http://stridercestprince.tumblr.com/) headcanons a while back and I decided that I wanted to write a fanfiction based on one of them. It's pretty much about how Bro really likes cats and Dave finds out and then tortures Bro with cat ears and stretching and purring and it's totally a really awesome headcanon and uh, you should go check out all the other headcanons she posts, because a lot of them are really neat; plus she writes awesome fics and, uh, she's super sweet? 
> 
> Anyway, I'm already up to chapter 7 on my Tumblr, since I didn't have an AO3 invite until last night. It's also where I'll be updating my fic; here will probably have to wait until the next day. If you don't mind waiting, that's fine! But if you want to read them sooner than when I get a chance to post them here, than follow me on [ Tumblr. ](http://tricky-dingo.tumblr.com)
> 
> So, I'll stop writing notes now, and get on to posting!  
> I hope you guys like it, I really have spent a lot of time on it!

You’re pretty sure you just caught a glimpse of some cute, little kitten over Bro’s shoulder. You’re pretty sure this isn’t the first time. They all happened on accident; you just walked right into his room bored as shit and he flipped tabs really quickly. You wanted to keep looking over his shoulder, but it really wasn’t worth the all the plush rumps assailing your eyes. Instead, you attempt to use Bro’s Xbox, and he proceeds to kick you out without a word. Part of you wants to paw at his door like a child and complain, but you squash it down and pretend you don’t even want his attention anyway. Shuffling over to the futon, you plop down and return to your previous activity of channel surfing. Nothing good is on. Nothing good is EVER on when you only have basic cable. With a heavy sigh, you mull over your older brother’s actions. He was scrolling through pictures of cats and this wasn’t the first time, either. Maybe he wanted a cat. You weren’t exactly interested in that idea; cats were clingy and loud and they got hair everywhere. You make a note to bring it up later as you heave yourself up. Maybe you’ll take a nap. Point all the fans at you and crawl into bed in just your boxers. You head back to your room, discontent with this course of action. What else is there really to do? Maybe when you wake up you can talk to Egbert or something.

Your eyes flutter open and it takes some time for your brain to catch up to them. It’s nearly dark in your room; you’ve overslept. You fumble for your shades and take note that it’s 7PM. Why would you even need that much sleep? You slept in until noon and you didn’t go back to bed that long after. Must have been the boredom and the heat. You slug your legs over the side of the bed and stretch. A groan bubbles from your lips as your spine cracks audibly. You’re a little stiff from lying still for so long, but at least you don’t feel too groggy. Quickly slipping on your pants and shirt, you sit down at your computer and pester John for a few minutes. He isn’t responding and you would be a little pissed about it if your stomach hadn’t just let out the loudest growl you think it ever has. Right. You haven’t eaten all day. You’re quickly up and out of your chair and slamming your bedroom door shut behind you. It doesn’t dawn on you that there may be no food until you’re actually in the kitchen and dodging the onslaught of shitty swords. “Fuck,” you groan as you gather them into your arms. You think about tossing them off the fucking roof, but you know Bro will either bring them back in or buy a whole new shitty set from some Japanese company online. Only $25 dollars for fifty of them! You roll your shaded eyes and pad across the small hallway, debating on if you should even knock on your brother’s door. He’s probably already heard the clatter of the swords and knows you’re coming. So you push open the door, and of course, he’s turned towards you in his fancy swivel chair. He doesn’t say anything, but you know he’s look at you from behind his shades. You know he knows what this is about. You can see a little smirk tug at the corner of his lips and for some reason, this makes you incredibly pissed off.

“Why’s there no food, asshole?” You try to control your voice, but you’re honestly mad. Bro has money. He runs that stupid site that churns in loads of money. Why can’t he just fill the fridge every now and then? His smirk just widens and you scowl a little.

“Whine about it some more, brat.”

And just like that you’re even angrier than when you opened the fridge.

“Roof. Now.” You spit out at him and leave his room before you have a chance to really start yelling.

He’s flash stepped ahead of you, and you feel your hair being ruffled. Or rather, a ghost of it as you hear the front door open and close. You stop in your room and grab your sword as you make your way out the door. You try your best to flash step up the stairs to the roof, but you’re just not as fast as Bro. This makes you all the more determined to win this strife.

“Took you long enough, kiddo,” you hear him call, though you can’t see where he is.

“Fuck you, I’m not a kid anymore,” you retort, keeping your voice level, which boosts your pride.

“Always a kid in my mind.”

He lets out a short chuckle before jumping out in front of you. He’s quick to strike, a blow already landing to your chest sending you flying back against the roof door. You hit it with a loud SMACK, but it takes you little more than a second to hop back up on your feet. You’re not going down that easily. A guttural noise rips from your throat, sounding much like a snarl as you run after him. His sword goes up as you try to strike him. He’s got fast reflexes, much faster than you could ever dream of having. It’s a little disheartening, but you don’t have time to think about it, as his leg is quick to swipe yours from underneath you. You go sprawling to the ground and this time, it takes a few seconds to get back up. He hasn’t descended upon you, and you find it kind of odd. You don’t say anything as you spring towards him once more. Why is he playing the defensive? Why is he only tripping you and pushing you down? He stays glued to the spot and you think your sword may actually make contact. For a brief second you feel exhilarated and disappointed at the same time. He’s letting you do this, but you’re still going to show him a little pain.

At least you were, but the tricky fucker flash steps right when your sword should have hit him, and you connect with solid concrete. You leave you sword stuck in the roof as your turn quickly to see where he’s gone. As soon as your eyes reach the door, a hand snakes out and grabs your shoulder, pulling you backwards. You nearly flail to catch your balance but you’re glad you don’t voice the autonomic scream that you can hear in your head. The hand is gentle and you feel your hair once again being ruffled by the older Strider. “Big Mac?” he suggests and your stomach lets out another big growl and you realize you’d forgotten all about your hunger.

“Sure.”

 

His truck is loud, but you don’t mind as you speed through the streets of Houston. All you can think about is how much food you’re going to devour. You hope Bro doesn’t opt for the drive-thru, as you want to eat the food immediately. No eating in the shitty truck, for whatever reason you’re unsure of. The thing was a piece of crap, yet Bro’s love seemed infinite for it. He even spent the extra few dollars to take it to the wash every other week. Hardly could say the same for yourself, as he rarely spent the extra few dollars to keep food in the house every other week. You glare out of the window, reminded of why you were pissed to begin with.

But it’s hard to stay mad when Bro seems to read your thoughts and pulls into a parking space. It’s hard to stay mad when he lets you order practically the whole entire menu. And it’s especially hard to stay mad when he only orders a fucking Kid’s Meal.

It takes a while, but soon your food is on several trays and you’re wolfing it down like you haven’t eaten in awhile. Because you haven’t. Bro pulls things out of the Kid’s Meal methodically and places them on the table. He’s after the toy and you know it. You roll your eyes in between bites of Big Macs and fries dipped in your shake. You don’t give a fuck how disgusting Bro thinks that is. It’s delicious, goddammit. He finally pulls out the toy, gives it a few glances over and cracks a small smile. He sets it down on the table carefully and picks up his drink. You doubt he’s even going to eat his food. He’s probably going to give it to you.

You spend the first ten minutes just shoving food in your mouth as fast as you can. Bro doesn’t say anything, he knows you won’t respond. At least he has some decency to let you eat in peace. Maybe he was feeling guilty; maybe just a small part of him. Your shoveling slows to a regular pace and he picks up on this as a cue to start a conversation.

“You eat like a fucking pig.”

“I’m starving.”

“You’re not starving, you little shit.”

You narrow your eyes. “Tell that to my stomach, Bro. It’d like to have a few choice words with you on that matter.”

You can’t see it, but you know he’s rolling his eyes. He doesn’t say anything more, and you don’t really feel awkward about it. After a good few more minutes of chewing, he picks up a fry and kind of takes this small nibble out of it. He puts it back and glides the food over to your tray. Now it’s your turn to roll your eyes. If he didn’t even like McDonald’s, he could have just suggested pizza. You could have eaten pretty much anything at this point.

You finish the last of your burgers and resign to dipping the last of your fries in your shake as you mull over a few things you want to sort of talk about. A few things are rejected and then you suddenly remembered what you wanted to ask him about earlier before you took the longest nap in the history of forever.

“Hey Bro, what’s up with the cats?”

He doesn’t snap his head up quickly, but you can sort of tell you’ve caught him off guard. Maybe he thought you hadn’t noticed. “What cats?”

Oh, so he was going to play this game with you. “You know, the fluffy kittens you keep scrolling through on Tumblr whenever I try to play your Xbox.”

You see his lips press into a hard line. You wonder if he’s going to flash step out of the restaurant and you panic a little thinking you may have no way home. But he just shakes his head a little. And his answer isn’t really what you were expecting. “What do you think about getting a cat?”

“Fuck no.” Your answer is immediate. There was no way you were going to be picking cat fur out of your cereal in the morning, like a crazy fucking cat lady.

“The fuck not?”

“They’re awful.”

“Are not.”

You want to say “are too,” back to him, but you realize he’s trying to make you take the childish bait. You won’t bite; not this time.

“We can’t even have them in the apartment, Bro.”

“I could hide it,” he shrugs and then takes a sip of his soda.

“Why are you even pushing it this hard?”

“I like cats,” he shrugs again.

“Really.” Your voice is deadpan, but you’re actually kind of reeling inside. This was news to you. You’d always assume Bro was doing some research for a special plush order, or making some stupid internet meme shit. You didn’t actually believe he really liked cats. A very small, genuine smirk pulls at your lips and you know Bro catches it. You try to cover it by shoving a soggy fry in your mouth, but you can’t help it as a few ideas begin to swirl around in your mind. This could potentially be the best piece of knowledge you’ve ever learned about Bro.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dave purrs and Bro goes :Y
> 
> OTL I'm dumb.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was kinda fun to write, I like being able to put in little details like the concrete in the palm and stupid stuff like that. I’m not used to writing for Bro and Dave, so I’m sorry for little inconsistencies or out of character-ness. I do hope to get better at writing for the both of them; this is my first time writing in second person. Also, I wouldn’t mind hearing any ideas/criticisms/whatever, by the way. I’m a big girl, I can take it.

The drive home is silent, but you can see Bro glance at you every now and then. You don’t bother to look back at him, opting to watch the dark road ahead of you. You have your elbow propped up on the window, your hand hanging out. The breeze feels good and you’re perfectly content with a full stomach and the comfort of the truck’s rhythmatic bumps. You almost want to fall asleep, but you’ve got a lot to think about. Instead you run through some things in your mind. Bro likes cats; enough to ask you about getting one, instead of just going ahead and getting one. He looks at them from what you can tell is fairly often. Bro has always been able to tease you about your interests, but you’ve never been able to tease him about his. Maybe there’s some room for you to repay back all the frustration you’ve dealt with when he’s pinned stupid smuppet pictures to your photo line, when he’s made fun of John to a point where you don’t think it’s funny anymore, when he’s got you so mad you’re blindly swinging your sword at him on the roof. 

Now you may be able to pay him back and the thought makes you smile. You know Bro sees it. You know you don’t care. As you take the steps to your apartment two at a time, you begin to formulate a plan. You hope to whatever is out there that it works. You want to make Bro frustrated, want to see him more pissed than you can remember seeing him in your life. It sounds like a stupid idea, really, but you want to really know that Bro is capable of getting angry at you; you want to know that he’s human like you. 

Bro opens the door and disappears immediately. You’re fine with that. You’ve got your plans to work on, anyway. You push open your bedroom door and click on the fans. Sitting down at the computer, you vow to yourself that watching cat videos on Youtube is ironic. It feel like you’ve been watching cat videos forever when you finally get up from your seat and stretch. It’s sort of late, so you don’t think you’ll put your plan into motion until tomorrow. Or maybe in a few days so Bro doesn’t know what you’re doing just yet. It might be a little more interesting that way if you can stand to wait. You’ve always been a little impatient, but you think you can hold out. 

Your body relaxes once you hit your bed. It’s cooled down since the sun’s set, and with the fans pointed at you, you feel waves of exhaustion hit your body from all sides. Sore from your strife and full from McDonald’s, you drift quickly into a dreamless sleep the minute you slip off your shades and shut your eyes.

 

The morning sun is bright; you haven’t been awake this early since school let out for the summer. You grope for your shades and try to ward off the merciless light by keeping your eyes half shut. Once they’re slipped on, you’re able to sit up in bed. It’s hot again and you don’t even want to move. It’s nine in the morning and you just know Bro would hassle you if he knew you were awake, rather than just crawling into bed an hour ago like he did. You feel lazy, stiff, and mostly hot. The idea of a cool shower sounds really appealing right now and you force yourself to move from your spot in bed. Fresh clothes in hand and semi-clean towel draped over your shoulder, you make your way to the bathroom and discard the items on the toilet seat haphazardly. In minutes you’re out of your clothes and under the comfortable spray of cool water. You stand under it for a little while, just thinking about things. If you hold out on your plan until Friday you can catch Bro unaware. You think you know exactly how you want to put your plan into motion and you feel almost giddy that this is something that might actually happen. You might just even be smiling when you think about how it could actually work. 

The day crawls by slowly, neither you nor Bro really cross paths today. The heat makes you both too lazy to strife. You busy yourself with talking to your friends and updating your blog a little. You crawl into bed around midnight and you’re asleep by 1 in the morning. 

Thursday is cloudy, and you’re thankful for it, albeit the humidity makes you kind of wish you had a swimming pool. Bro doesn’t seem as bothered by the humidity as you are and he forces you on the rooftop for an impromptu strife. He wins like always; you didn’t really even give much of a fight to his dismay. He leaves you alone for the rest of the day and you’re in bed by 11:30. Tomorrow is the day and you force yourself into sleep before you can psyche yourself out into staying up super late by running through your plan over and over.

Friday morning is actually cool, and you’re out of bed the second your eyes open. It’s still kind of early for Bro as you make your way out into the living room. You decide to shower first; you think that’s concrete stuck in a scrape on your palm. 

After a shower you pad into the kitchen. You’re pouring yourself some cereal when an idea strikes you. Opening the cabinets your pull out everything you need while keeping all the shit that shouldn’t be there from falling out. Quietly, you put everything together into the coffee pot, just the way Bro likes it. There’s nothing left to do but wait and you spend an idle hour in front of the TV.

You barely hear Bro moving in his room as he wakes up. You wonder how long he’ll be and you calm yourself before you start thinking too much. You’re counting on your little “favor” to him be enough to catch him in a moment of affection. He’s always been more affectionate in the morning before he’s had the chance to really wake up. You’ve kind of always like that about Bro. 

The door opens; you force yourself to remain facing forward and not look at him. Instead you count the amount of footsteps he takes as he makes his way past you into the kitchen. Your face drops a little, but you push it back to expressionless. He’ll say something after he realizes what you’ve done. It’s not long before the aroma of coffee fills the air. The pot is dripping and the sound is comforting. The TV is quiet in the background and you have no idea what you’re even watching; you’re so focused on what Bro is doing. Something gurgles and the sound of coffee being poured into a cup causes something to lurch in you. This is it.   
Bro takes the “World’s #1 Grandma” coffee mug with along with him, as he always does. He stops in front of the couch and looks down at you. He’s quiet for a moment and you’re unsure if he’s actually going to say anything at all. Remaining expressionless you turn to him slowly as if you’re actually interested in the show you’re watching. He’s shirtless, but his shades are on his face as always. You try not to stare too long and you quirk an eyebrow above your shades at him.   
When you’re sure he’s going to turn and leave without saying anything at all, he opens his mouth and you won’t admit that your stomach just did a stupid little flip.   
“Thanks for the coffee, little man.” His voice carries a little bit of the grogginess he feels and you think for a moment me may not actually do it. But before you almost panic, a warm hand connects with your hair and ruffles it lazily; fingers gently scratch at your scalp. 

“Do it,” you tell yourself and before you can re-think it, you slowly begin to purr. It’s really quiet at first, just a small noise in the back of your throat. But as his hand remains on your head, the sound builds to an audible level. It sounds just like the noises of the cats in the video, and you might admit that you actually practiced it once or twice. You let the sound bubble from your throat at the contact of your older brother’s hand.

It freezes; your purr stops. 

You look up at him and you know the look he’s giving you from behind his shades. He opens his mouth but flash steps away. the door shut roughly behind him. You wait a few moments before letting the victory pull your lips into a full smile. You’ve thrown him off and you know it. You have the upper hand. 

_Dave motherfuckin’ Strider has the upper hand._


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dave tries to play Mad Snacks Yo. Bro puts a stop to that immediately. Then Dave taunts him with cute stretches; yeah.
> 
> :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that my chapters just keep getting better as I warm up to the characters more and more. If you have any comments/crits/whatever I’m always open to hear them. Hope those of you that are along for the ride enjoy this one; dialogue was the most fun to write.

Bro spends the rest of the day in his room and you in yours. You think you’re mostly okay with it. Bro just probably needs his space to figure out what you’re playing at. You’re sure he’ll have you figured out soon enough, so you hope he doesn’t draw out this space thing for too long. Otherwise you won’t have a chance to put more of your plan into action. You spend all day browsing the web; fucking around, talking to your friends, maybe doing a little more  _research._

You wonder what he’s come up with to explain the purring. Was he rationalizing that he was tired and maybe just imagined it? Was he pissed that you even did it in the first place? Your stomach sinks a bit. Maybe you just seriously fucked up. You try not to over think it as you slink back into your chair and try to get lost in the internet.

The day draws to a close and you find some pizza you didn’t even know was sitting out for you when you go into the kitchen. He obviously cares enough to feed you, still. It’s your favorite pizza toppings so you store away the knowledge that he’s probably not mad. You pour a glass of apple juice and help yourself to the extra large pizza. You take a few slices back to your room and devour them much to your stomach’s delight. You crawl into bed and pull the covers over yourself for the first time in a few days. You feel pleasantly warm and confident that you’ll be able to put part two into action tomorrow.

 

It’s another strangely cool day when you wake up and you throw on a baggy sweater that’s completely out of season. It’s fucking ironic, with its little orange pumpkin on the bottom-front corner. The sweater itself is black and the cuffs and hems are orange and you know Bro likes orange a lot, so you’re happy it was still in your closet. That’s a little un-ironic, but you think you’re okay with it. You slide into a pair of holey jeans and slip on some socks. You think this is the most dressed you’ve been in a long time. You waste some time at your turntables for a little bit before heading into the kitchen for some breakfast. There are still a few slices of pizza left and you gobble them down. Bro will probably give you shit about it later, but you fail to find a fuck to give when you’re this hungry. Maybe he should wake up before two in the afternoon if he wants leftover pizza.

You decide to hide out in your room until you hear the shower. Part two won’t go smoothly if Bro sees you before you put it into action. It feels like forever, but finally the rusty pipes groan with the overload of water and you swear he takes for-fucking-ever. Maybe you’re just feeling a little impatient; not that you want to really admit that to yourself. The door opens and closes quietly and you force yourself to wait a little while longer before you go bother Bro.

When enough time has passed, you’re up and out of your seat, slowing your footsteps as you leave your room and cross the hall to his bedroom door. You don’t knock as you push it open, striding in like you own the place.

Bro doesn’t even look up from his screen and you can tell he’s doing some financing.  _Perfect._ You stand around for a moment, not feeling the least bit awkward before he turns his head a little, without taking his eyes off the screen. “What do you want?”

His voice is a little gruff, but you know he’s just trying to focus. You give a noncommittal shrug and a little “nothing,” as you meander over to his bed and plop down. He gives you a small glance and you can tell he’s taking in your attire.

“Cute fucking sweater, little bro,” and his voice has a forced bite to it. You know what his  _real_ bitter voice sounds like.

“I wear it like a champ,” you reply and you think you might have caught a very small twitch in Bro’s lips. You’re pretty sure it was a smile. You leave your older brother alone, just flipping through the channels on TV with the volume turned down really low. He’s nearly forgotten you and that’s just how you want it. Make yourself appear like you’re just bored as shit. You’re going to wait for him to lean back a little in his chair, a cue that’s he pretty much done with all the math. Right now he’s still sitting up straight and the clicking of his mouse and occasional taps of his fingers are still rhythmatic. The sound is sort of comforting to you and you’re able to relax more than you would have thought you could in this situation.  

You flop over on your stomach when you’re sure he’s not looking. As far as you can tell he didn’t notice it at all. You try to focus on the TV as a distraction, but it’s only making time tick by slower. After what felt like an eternity, Bro’s fingers slow and he lets out a small breath through his nose. Your eye is on him from the corner of your shades and there it is. He leans back, scratches at his chin, and bring his foot to rest on his knee. From what you can piece together, he probably has ten more minutes left of collecting things together and placing them in the appropriate place. Now is the time to act and you’re excited today, instead of nervous. You already know you’ve got the upper hand.

The Xbox controller couldn’t have been positioned in a better place for you. It’s on the desk, slightly near Bro and perfectly in his line of vision. You glance over at him and then reach for it, making sure he sees you doing it. He turns towards you now, and you know he’s glaring at you from behind his shades. “The fuck do you think you’re doing?” It’s lacking anger and you let slip a small grin. This couldn’t be going any better; it was already fucking perfect.  

“Playing Mad Snacks Yo,” you reply nonchalantly. “The fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“Put it down.”

“Fuck you. I’ve got mad, rude hunger, Bro.” you retort and flash him a sardonic smirk.

“Put it down,” he repeats and it’s a firm command this time. Just as you want it to be.

You roll your eyes and put the controller down with a small, exasperated sigh. You planned this, but you’ve got to keep up appearances. He watches you for a moment and you know it’s time for part two. You make sure he’s watching as you begin to stretch your body. It’s mostly a normal stretch, but as you work your way into it, you begin to stretch in strange positions like cats do. Your back is limber from the rooftop strifes and you actually enjoy the way it feels when it pulls your spine. You let out a small yawn and look over at Bro. He’s still watching you, and you give another long stretch and let a small purr emit from your throat.

You can’t tell what the look on Bro’s face really means; it’s one you’ve never seen before. It looks like it’s a cross between wanting to tell you to get out of his room and wanting to do something else. Something you think quite possibly might be to  _pet_ you. You’re on your back, with one arm folded across your chest, the other hanging slightly off the edge of the bed. Your body is curved slightly and you have one knee up in the air. You’re actually really comfortable on Bro’s bed. It’s so much bigger than your own; more room to actually stretch out on. Bro doesn’t say anything; you can tell he’s actually  _trying_ to keep his face neutral. He turns back to the screen, probably realizing he’s been watching you this whole time.

And fuck if you’re not pleased by this. There’s something bubbling up from deep inside you; a mixture of victory and pride and something else you can’t quite place. You’ve never been able to throw your brother off like this and the rush of adrenaline is almost addicting. That’s twice now you’ve seen him unreadable for all the “wrong” reasons. You can’t tell what he’s thinking, not because of his face being completely passive, but because there are thoughts and emotions you don’t think he’s ever had before.

He tries hard to not look over at you as you give another little stretch and purr. You’re sure any minute now he’s going to throw you out. You don’t really want him to, but you think it would be completely justified if he did. He’s typing so slow now and you know he must be trying to distract himself. You grin and push your shades up on your head to rub at your right eye. What, Bro? It’s totally itchy. Not trying to get under your skin or anything.  

He’s looking at you now and you’re so fucking beside yourself that you roll over onto your stomach, snatch the remote and turn off the TV. You didn’t think he’d tolerate you enough to allow you to do the one thing you really wanted to do for part two. All the other actions you’ve taken today could be deemed as “innocent” or “coincidental.”

You slowly push yourself up to your hands and knees. He’s still watching; fuck he’s still watching. You want to smile so bad, but you keep your face passive as you slowly arch your back in a perfect feline stretch. You don’t hold it for very long but you let a purr slip and maybe a small, contented noise.

You slip off the bed soon after and when you get a good look at Bro, his jaw is clenched and he’s not looking at you. You don’t dare say anything as you pass by him and you wonder how far you can take this before he snaps.

You’ve never beaten Bro during a strife, and you’ve certainly never beaten him at his own game; until now.

It’s a little too early to call the game over and won; but Bro is backed into a corner and he’s going to have to surrender soon.

You’ve never been more fucking proud of any one accomplishment in your life.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this chapter started out as a pain in the ass. I hate doing pesterlogs for Dave, I just feel like I’m not conveying him correctly. Anyway, cheers to those of you who get a kick out of part of the pesterlog. Also, I don't know how to format it with the color just yet? So I'll look into that and then fix it. 
> 
> ;P Alright, enough of me blabbering.

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering gardenGnostic [GG] \--  
TG: sup harley  
GG: oh wow dave strider is gracing me with his presence!  
GG: i cant believe my eyes!!!  
TG: well shit harley my agenda is jam packed with all this coolkid shit  
TG: dont think ill have time for you  
GG: dave! i know youre just being a jerk! i know you have nothing to do other than update that stupid webcomic of yours!  
TG: woah harley  
TG: thats a serious accusation against sbahj  
TG: im suddenly beginning to doubt your credibility  
GG: jesus dave! shut up! your webcomic is totally outrageous and ironic. i bow before its glory.   
TG: damn right you do  
GG: whatever!!! you clearly want something so why dont you just spit it out already!  
TG: caught me  
TG: im going to ask you to do something for me that might sound kinda weird  
TG: and also not to mention it to egbert  
GG: this is already weird  
GG: but okay! what do you need me to do?  
TG: i need you to make me some fuzzy orange cat ears  
TG: like the stupid clip on kind  
GG: what?  
GG: dave…  
GG: that really is weird!!!  
GG: i mean I can do it!  
GG: what do you need them for?  
TG: irony obviously  
TG: what else would i need them?  
GG: how silly of me to think otherwise!  
TG: damn straight  
GG: wait why orange  
GG: i thought akwete purrmusk had leopard spots!  
TG: jesus harley how the fuck do you even remember that  
TG: that was three years ago  
GG: i remember everything mr coolguy  
TG: thats total bullshit  
GG: ok maybe true!  
GG: but yes i will make them  
TG: make them super fucking soft  
GG: ok this is starting to get really weird!  
TG: you mean awesome  
GG: of course i do :P  
GG: well i have to go feed bec now and then ill work on your ears  
TG: cool see ya

\-- gardenGnostic [GG] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG] --

  
You close out of Pesterchum and sit back in your chair. It’s already been a few days since part two of your plan and you’ve barely seen Bro since. Every time the two of you cross paths you make sure to stretch your body out in front of him and purr as loud as you can. You know his eyes linger on you, even if you can’t see them. You know he wants to slap you; you can see it in his jaw. But if he really didn’t have a conflicting emotion to battle against his hand he would have done it already. Every time you catch him in the hall, you feel pride swell inside your stomach. You wonder how long this will last and part of you wants to believe forever. You know he will put a stop to it, eventually. When that happens you’re not sure what you’re going to do, but now that you know you  _do_ have this power, you’re going to find as many ways to exploit it as possible.

It feels like forever, but finally Jade has finished your cat ears. From the picture she took, you can already tell they’re really fucking quality. You can’t wait to get them and she tells you it’s going to take a  _whole week_  to get to your apartment. The first half of the week you continue to purr whenever Bro’s forced to be in the same room as you. The second half you stop completely. You can see the puzzled look in Bro’s eyebrows and body language when you’ve suddenly stopped the antics you’ve been doing for the past week. After the third day of leaving him alone, his shoulders relax, he seems less tense, and he even ruffles your hair as he passes one morning. All you can think about is how happy you are that he’s playing right into your hand.

The ears arrive and you’re quick to abscond into your room. As your hand dips into the box, you draw in a short breath at  _how fucking soft_ they really are. You pull them out quickly, careful not to damage them.  _Holy shit._ They’re fucking perfect. From the color, to the size, and the fur. You have to tell Jade thank you; maybe even without all the coolkid attitude. Some; but not all.

You want to put them on, but you’re going to wait. You know Bro has a gig coming up. You already know exactly when you’re going to wear them. A smile tugs at your lips as you put them back in their box and stash them away in your closet. Just two more days and you can put part three into motion. You’re pretty sure this will be the last part to your plan. Bro will see you in them and flip shit on you. He’ll drag you to the rooftop, make you strife with him. You think you might actually have a chance to win with him that angry.

Bro tells you goodbye as he heads out the door at 9 pm. You give a small wave and turn back to the TV. He’s been a lot more talkative over the past two days and you maybe feel a little guilt when you head to your room not long after he leaves. You almost succumb to the guilt as you pull the ears out of the box, but flashes of everything Bro’s never felt guilty about spur you on to proceed with your plans. You’re heading to the bathroom with a fresh towel, your ears, and some clean clothes, when Bro’s door catches your eye. You deposit your stuff in the bathroom before venturing into your brother’s room. You get a bit of nostalgia when you begin to feel the “I shouldn’t be in here,” feeling. It makes you grin a little and you try not to notice Lil’ Cal out of the corner of your shades. You pick something up and take it with you into the bathroom.

After a long shower and blow drying your hair  _ironically,_ you’re left smelling good, with orange cat ears clipped into your soft hair and wearing your favorite holey jeans. You were going to wear your red, record shirt; make it seem like normal before Bro saw the ears. Instead you’ve slipped into Bro’s favorite orange hoodie. You’re pleased that it matches the color of your cat ears; and even more-so that it smells just like Bro. 

This strikes you as odd and you push the thought down for the moment. You’ve got to keep your cool and not over-think this.

It’s only a little after ten and you sit down on the couch. The hair clips attached to the ears pull at your hair a bit and you force yourself not to touch them. It took you ten minutes to get them perfect and you’re not about to fuck that up now. As you try to get lost in bad TV, you can’t help the small sigh as you glance at the clock. Bro’s not due home for a while and you’re maybe just a little tired. You try to keep yourself awake, until midnight rolls around and you resign to take a nap for an hour; two at most. You set the alarms on your phone and place it on the floor beside the couch. Carefully, you do your best to curl up like a cat; minding your ears as you rest your head on the edge of the couch. The last thing you remember before falling asleep is slipping off your shades and setting them next to your phone.

The door wakes you up; not your alarms. Bro is home and you have no idea what time it is. You force yourself not to bolt upright at the jolt of panic that shoots through your spine. You can hear his footsteps and they sound slightly steady, but there’s an unmistakable stumble to them that Bro only has when he’s drunk. You smile a little, and sit up and rub at your eyes. You realize you’re not wearing your shades a little too late.

“What the fuck, Dave?”

_Shit._ He sounds really fucking mad and you freeze with your hand still under your eye. You turn to him and drop your hand quickly. You don’t know if he’s glaring at you, for sure, but you can certainly feel it in the atmosphere. You silently wish you hadn’t taken off your shades. You also silently wish you hadn’t even taken it this far. He takes a step towards you and you do your best to suppress the urge to bolt. You know you wanted him to be mad, you wanted him to flip shit and fight you, but now that he actually  _is_ mad, you’re not sure if you wanted that at all. This is legitimately scaring you right now and _shit,_ he’s taking another step towards you.

“Is that my fucking hoodie, little bro?” his voice is a little bit slurred and you can hear the increase in volume in it from his last question. You don’t answer; you’re too freaked out to answer. He’s now only a few feet away from you and you can see his fists are clenched tight. Is he going to hit you? Even through all the shit you’ve pulled on him, Bro has  _never_ hit you.

“Cute ears, Dave, where’d you get them you little shit?”

You remain silent.

“Not gonna fuckin’ answer?”

You open your mouth; he’s pissed now. You try to answer him but nothing comes out.

“Nothin’ to fuckin’ say?” He’s shouting now, and you cringe as he takes the last step between you and him. His hand shoots out quickly and you shut your eyes tight. This is it. He’s going to punch you in the face. You wait for the impact of those large hands; but you feel them wrap around the collar of your shirt instead. You’re quickly being hauled off the couch and slammed roughly into the wall. It hurts and you didn’t even know Bro could lift you like that.

His grip tightens and your eyes shoot open. You try to struggle out of his grasp, but he holds onto you with an iron grip. It’s squeezing against your neck and the fabric is chafing the skin. It hurts and when you wrap your hands around his large wrists he just tightens his grip up even more. You force back the sting in your eyes. Striders never cry, but this really fucking hurts. You scramble around for something to say but can’t make sense out of anything.

“Bro,” it’s all you can manage and you curse yourself for sounding so weak. His grip doesn’t loosen and you don’t know what he’s going to do. You’d almost prefer him to drag you to the roof. You’re sure you’d be able to get in a few blows before he beat the shit out of you, even while drunk.

“Real fuckin’ cute, Dave,” he slurs into your face; it smells like beer and cigarette smoke. He slams you against the wall again and you try to stop the moan that breaks from behind your lips. From this close up you can see past his dark shades. His eyes are on your mouth. You know he’s going to hit you now. He probably thinks you’re doing it on purpose. You know you honestly deserve this treatment. You did push him and push him. But you really didn’t think he’d react this  _badly._ You don’t even know exactly _why_ he is. It’s frustrating and you push back the urge to bring your hands up to you ears when he opens his mouth. You’re expecting him to yell at you; but when the word leaves his mouth you completely awestruck.

“Purr.”

_What?_ You were not expecting that at all. Does he seriously want you to start purring or did you hear him wrong? You don’t want to; you’re afraid if you did hear him wrong he’s going to hurt you. Apparently you’re taking to long to deliberate because he shoves you against the wall again; albeit much less forcefully this time.

“I said purr.”

Trying to avoid what could be a beating around the corner; you quickly wet your lips and clear your throat. He’s watching your mouth and you hesitantly begin to let out a low purr from the back of your throat.

“Louder.”

Your eyes dart up to meet where his are and you can see through his shades that they’re watching you now. They’re intent as your purr builds in volume. You wonder if maybe you can take it up a notch to placate him. This is obviously what he wants, but you’re afraid of taking it too far again. Carefully, you let your eyes close halfway and let them relax. His grip has completely loosened on your shirt; his hands are just holding onto the fabric now. You hesitantly push one of his wrists away from your shirt. He doesn’t seem to care; he’s too busy watching you. Slowly, you bring his hand up and guide it to the fur on your cat ear. His eyes snap up to what you’re doing and you panic for a moment until he begins to rub the orange fur.

He lets out the softest groan you’ve ever heard and you’re in complete shock. Bro’s broken his façade and you’re the reason. His fingers begin to run through your hair and you shiver but you don’t dare stop purring. It’s beginning to make your throat itch a little, but you’re still nervous that it’s like a spell. If you stop, it’ll be broken and Bro will beat you to a pulp.

You feel his other hand leave your shirt and it drifts up your neck and onto your face. The leather on his glove is cool, but his fingers are hot; so hot. His eyes leave your cat ears and he watches as he traces his thumb across your bottom lip. You see something flash in his eyes and there’s a new anxiety in you.

You may have never seen it in real life but you’ve seen plenty of movies and pornos to know that look anywhere.

_Lust._

You choke up and the purring stops immediately. His finger stills and you see his eyes slowly make contact with yours.

“Open your mouth.”

It’s clear that this topic isn’t open for debate and you slowly part your lips. He watches your eyes as he slips a finger into your mouth. It pushes down on your tongue gently and you wonder what he wants you to do exactly. As if reading your mind, he answers your unvoiced question.

“Suck.”

His voice is gruff in your ears and you hesitantly obey. Part of you is wondering why you’re doing it, but there’s something else, too. You sort of  _want_ to do it. You  _want_  to keep seeing his face filled with emotions, rather than completely unreadable.

His free hand is still running through your hair and touching your cat ear. His eyes keep darting between your ears, your mouth, and your eyes. He slips another finger into your mouth, pushing against your tongue. You open your mouth a little bit wider for the second digit. You watch his eyes as you swirl your tongue around his fingertips, sliding it between the two digits. He lets out another soft groan and pushes his fingers back a little farther into your mouth.

You’re not sure why, but you you’re starting to get turned on by this. It’s freaking you out a little, but you can’t stop yourself. You’re sure you could make it away from him now, if you just give him a good shove. He’s probably too drunk to flash step to your door. But you  _can’t_ stop. You squirm a little as he pushes even farther back into your mouth. He’s nearly touching your throat and you hope he doesn’t push any farther. You run your tongue slowly up the length of his two fingers and he lets out a small hiss.

“Fuck, Dave.” It’s throaty, filled with lust, and you feel a little bit of anxiety bubble underneath your own lust. You’re not even sure why you feel this way. This is Bro. You’re brothers. This is wrong.

But knowing this doesn’t stop you from letting out a small, displeased noise as he retracts his fingers from your mouth. He smirks and pushes you towards the couch. It makes you nervous and excites you at the same time. What is he going to do to you? Should you stop him? Do you even want to stop him?

Yes, a little, you’ll admit. But not yet. You’re pretty sure you want to feel his hands on you more. He sits down on the couch first and pats the cushion next to him. You slowly sit down and he pushes you down a little against the arm of the couch. His fingers tangle into your hair as he leans his head down to your height. He pulls you in, gently and you’re struck by how stark the contrast to his earlier mood is. He runs his thumb over your lips again and gently nudges them apart. His face moves closer to your’s and you’re pretty sure you know where this is going next. Bro is going to kiss you. 

You feel like he’s been hovering above you for the longest time and you’ve grown too impatient to wait. You want to know what his lips feel like. You won’t wait a second longer and you close the distance between the two of you, pressing your lips to his.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bro's turn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As to not confuse any of you, Chapter 5 is written from Bro’s perspective of what his last few weeks have been like in the story! I was a little nervous about writing this and I didn’t know if you guys would want to read it, but I was convinced and I really, REALLY hope I didn’t screw him up and you guys like this chapter.

On your way home from McDonalds your little bro is oddly quiet. He usually enjoys talking in the car and you were so sure he was going to tease you about your cat obsession. Instead, he spends the time watching the street lights passing by like they’re the coolest fucking thing he’s ever seen. When you open the door to your apartment, you’re quick to shut yourself in your room. When you come back out half an hour later, he’s holed up in his own room and you’re slightly relieved. You can’t help but think something is up, but you don’t pay much mind to it. Teenagers were supposed to be like that or some shit. He spends the next two days complaining about the heat and when you challenge him to a strife on the roof he doesn’t even try to fight you. You back off and leave him be to deal with the heat on his own.

 

It’s cool when you wake up the next day at 12 in the afternoon. It’s much cooler than it should be during the summer and you idly think about how Dave is probably happy with this. You grunt as you pull yourself out of your bed. You’re groggy and didn’t get much sleep and all you want right now is your coffee. You put some pants on as you head towards the door and slip past Dave on your way to the kitchen. When you open the coffee pot, the scent wafts out and you give a small grin. Dave made coffee for you like he used to do when he was younger and knew you’d have a hangover. You feel a little bit nostalgic as you grab your “World’s #1 Grandma” mug he got you a few years ago and listen to the pot gurgle. It finally slows and you fill your cup. As you head back towards your room you stop in front of the couch. You should say thank you or some shit. You’re not sure if Dave heard you approach, but slowly he turns and looks up at you. “Thanks for the coffee, little man,” you grunt out and don’t think twice about reaching down and ruffling his hair like when he was younger. You give his scalp a good scratch and just when you’re about to pull your hand back, your little brother lets out a strange noise. You think you hear him wrong, but despite your lack of sleep, you can figure out the noise in a few seconds. He’s  _purring._ Your hand freezes and he stops. Your little brother is purring just like a  _fuckin’ kitten._

You open your mouth, but you realize too late that you have no idea what you even want to say. With a solid grip on your coffee mug you quickly flash step away, leaving Dave behind in the living room. Once you’re safe behind the door you set down the coffee mug and drop into your computer chair. You hang your head in your hands and slip your shades off to rub at your tired eyes. This had to be a coincidence. Dave couldn’t possibly know. If he did, how would you even explain to him?

How do you tell your little brother that you want to rip his clothes off and fuck the shit out of him until he’s screaming your name?

You don’t dare leave your room unless you’re sure that Dave is in his. The fact that he doesn’t bother you for the rest of the day makes you think that he doesn’t quite have this figured out. Around nine you order in some pizza and you make sure to get his favorite toppings. After leaving it out for him you don’t leave you bedroom for the rest of the night.

You wake up again to another cool day and you’re so fucking glad because it’s time to do your smuppet finances for the month. You had a shit ton more orders to process this period and you want to just say fuck it and spend the day playing Xbox. But if you don’t get this shit done, you don’t get paid. You’re only twenty minutes into your financing when you hear footsteps approach your room and the sound of the door opening and closing. Only one person in the apartment, so you know it’s Dave and don’t even bother to look. You’re waiting for him to say something but when he doesn’t, you roll your eyes and turn your head a bit. “What do you want?” You realize your voice is a little harsh, but this is shit you can’t put off. Dave will have to wait if he wants something.

He replies with a small “nothing” and you see him plop down on your bed like he owns it. It irks you a little but you don’t say anything about it. You give him a small glance and then stare for a moment longer. What the fuck is he wearing? That sweater. You got that for him at the thrift store for Christmas two years ago. You’re a bit taken by how much he’s grown since then. It’s still baggy, but it’s not as short and his shoulders have broadened quite a bit. He’s filled out, and his frame is lean but complimenting to his face, and… You force yourself away from  _that_ train of thought. “Cute fucking sweater, little bro.” It’s snarky and you want Dave to leave you alone to your work. He doesn’t get the hint and you don’t have the heart to tell him to get out. He’s just bored, you reason, and you’re not going to treat him like shit just because you’re feeling like it.

“I wear it like a champ,” he retorts and your force yourself to not smile at his own snarky comment. He leaves you alone for the time being and you thank whatever reason that’s for. He’s just flipping through the TV practically on mute and you’re not sure how he’s even entertained by that. You block him out as you continue to do math, concentrating on the numbers in front of you. You’ve always been good with math, even if you had shit grades in school. Still, that didn’t mean you enjoyed it; it was fucking annoying when you had busy months like this.

Soon you’re coming to the end of your numbers and you feel relieved. Now all that’s left is to process the orders and that takes only a few minutes. You lean back in your chair and bring your foot to rest on your knee. You file away the spreadsheet you finished and close your bank account. You’re about to begin processing the orders when you see a hand reaching for something on your desk from the corner of your eye. Is Dave seriously reaching for your Xbox controller?

Your head snaps to meet his and you give a little grunt. “The fuck do you think you’re doing?” Your voice is void of anger, unintentionally. You just processed a fuck load of numbers and it’s a little hard trying to be angry rather than exasperated.   
  
“Playing Mad Snacks Yo,” he replies, and you glare at him from behind your shades. “The fuck do you think you’re doing?” 

Fuckin’ prick.

“Put it down.”  
  
“Fuck you. I’ve got mad, rude hunger, Bro.” He flashes you the most ridiculous smile and you just want to slap it right off his bratty, little, face.

“Put it down,” you repeat in an authoritative voice.

He heaves a sigh and puts it down like you just asked him to cut a limb off for you. Does he even know how obnoxious he’s being right now? Right when you’re sure he’s going to leave, he begins to pull his body into a stretch and as much as you don’t want to, your eyes linger. It isn’t long before he’s tangling himself into as many positions as possible and you clench your jaw tight. Does he know? Does he realize what he’s doing to you? When you think it couldn’t get any worse, that fucking kid begins to purr just like he did yesterday.  _Fuck, goddammit._ It’s all you can think when he’s laying out like that on your bed. On  _your_ bed. Part of you wants to watch and the other part of you wants to throw him out of your room right fucking now. He has to know; why else would he be fucking with you?

You turn to your screen; you’ve been looking too long. You try to shake thoughts of your little brother tangling in the exact same positions with you leaning over him; purring while you trail your tongue down his skin.  _Shit._  

  
He lets out another one of those purrs that makes your skin feel hot and gives another small stretch. You try not to look over at him, but you can still see it from the corner of your eye. Reluctantly you turn to him and he flips over onto his stomach and grabs the remote. He turns your TV off and then, so slowly, he draws his body up and stretches just like a cat. He’s on all fours and you fight the images that are beginning to swirl around in your mind of him in that  _same_  position. It would be a lot easier to push it down if he didn’t fucking  _purr_ and that noise he just made; shit. You clench your jaw tight; if you say something now you’ll regret it. You force your eyes back to your computer screen and hide your growing hard-on. Thankfully, the little shit is off your bed and heading out the door only a few seconds later. You get up and lock it behind him. You feel like shit as you rip your belt off. You feel like fucking garbage as you push your pants down past your hips. And despite how fucking  _good_ it feels when you come, you feel like the worst piece of trash that you even call yourself a brother.

Your pants are on in record time and you give up on processing for today.

Does he know? Does he even realize what he’s doing?

You’ve got to figure this shit out so you can put an end to it.

You think back for a few days and all of his unusual behavior started after McDonalds. He holed himself up in his room, he intentionally purred at you the other day, and now he was in here in the most _adorable_ of fucking outfits, purring and stretching and moaning like a fuckin’ cat in heat.

When you think about it, you should have realized it a lot sooner. He’s just fucking with you because you like cats. It’s completely innocent to him; more like a game of Uncle. But he’s blinded to the real reason you’re so pissed. He’s unwittingly fueling your “reasons why I want to screw my brother into oblivion” list. It’s hard enough to deal with your desire alone; now Dave is making it completely insufferable. You should have never even fuckin’ told him you liked cats to begin with.

Fuck. Guess you’re just going to have to hide out in your room like some fuckin’ hermit until this shit blows over.

Unfortunately it doesn’t work that way, because every time you pass him in the hall against all odds, he’s stretching in front of you; filling your ears with that noise you want him to make around your dick.

It’s so hard to not just slam him into the wall and beat the shit out of him; it’s so hard to not slam him in the wall and fuck the shit out of him.

You need to get your shit together; this is really starting to drain you.

When you wake up in the afternoon you know he’s going to be waiting for you when you go to get your coffee. When you leave your room, he’s just sitting on the couch. You’re not sure if he’s heard you at all, but you don’t care and you take the opportunity to slip in and out of the living room with your coffee as quick as you can. Later when you leave to go to the bathroom, he’s just exiting it and he gives you a little nod on his way to his bedroom. You’re fucking confused. Part of you is so goddamn relieved; another part of you wonders why he stopped. Did something happen to upset him? Maybe he got bored when you didn’t do anything about all his antics. He seems fine, though, because later that night he says hello and tries to engage you in conversation. You can’t help it if you’re still waiting for him to start that shit up again, so you don’t talk to him for long. This continues into the next day and the next, and you finally think it’s safe to let your guard down a little. Maybe you can pretend that you only think of him in a brotherly way now that’s he’s not taunting you with what you can’t touch. You even chance ruffling his hair before you leave and he doesn’t purr. Everything feels somewhat normal again and you are finally able to relax once more.

You’ve got a gig tonight and you pack your shit up early. You’re heading out the door at nine and you’re looking so fuckin’ good. You’ve DJed for the club you’re heading to before; it was a fuckin’ blast last time. You hadn’t been that wasted in years and you were looking forward to a night of partying after how you’ve spent your last two weeks.

The night is like all the others in some aspects. You spin and they dance, blow the roof off the fuckin’ club, and have girls throwing themselves on you all night. Last time you left with two hot chicks, headed to the sleazy motel district and woke up with the worst hangover of your life. You remember wishing you were at home so Dave would make you coffee, but you never brought people home. You’ll never expose Dave to shit like that. If he wants to make that decision when he’s older, than that’s his choice and you don’t want him to make it based on what  _you_ do with  _your_ life.

But tonight, you’re not looking for anyone to go home with. You just want to have a little fun and then go back to your apartment and crash into your bed and wake up and talk about it with Dave and laugh when he asks if you’ll take him next time.

You’re on your fourth beer around midnight and the club is going wild for you. Nobody ever requests anything because you know exactly what they want to hear. It may not be your favorite shit to spin, but you enjoy it no less. Last call is coming up soon and you’ve kept yourself at only 12 beers. You’re drunk, but not trashed. You still have to drive home anyway. You pack your shit up and dodge drunk and horny women as you load up your truck. You drive home and you’re pretty sure that you probably shouldn’t be driving; but no one stops you, despite going way over the speed limit. You get home quickly and leave your shit in your truck, locking it up tight. You’ll get it tomorrow and force Dave to carry half of it.

You walk up the steps instead of flash stepping. You fumble with the keys for a second, but get the door open in drunk record time. Once inside you kick off your shoes and pocket your keys. Dave is lying on the couch and you almost smile at the idea of him trying to wait up for you like when he was younger. When he sits up, you don’t miss the delicate cat ears perched on top of his head. They look really fucking quality; you don’t see any headbands and they look so fucking soft. So he isn’t done with this shit. You’re pissed and you kick the door shut loudly behind you. He jolts up and rubs his eyes  _just like a cat._

“What the fuck, Dave?”

You’re pissed. Your voice is loud even to you. He turns to you and you see his eyes for the first time in years. They’re so fucking red just like you remembered. You’re stricken with the desire to reach out and touch him, but the drunk in you is raging that he’s taken it this far. You take a step towards him unconsciously and that’s when you see that he’s wearing your favorite orange hoodie. It’s perfect for lounging around in and he’s wearing it. You’ve always wanted to see him in your clothes; fueling the possessive part of you. It compliments his eyes and those stupid fucking cat ears that make him look so fucking good.

“Is that my fuckin’ hoodie, little bro?” You take another step, this time on purpose. You’re only a few feet away and you can see the look in his eyes. You can tell he’s scared. He hasn’t seen you this pissed in a long time. You clench your fists, fighting the urge to hit him. You’re more fighting the urge to rip his clothes off his body; he looks so good.

“Cute ears, Dave, where’d you get them you little shit?”

He stays silent.

“Not gonna fuckin’ answer?”

He opens his mouth, but he doesn’t answer still. He’s got a perfect fuckin’ mouth and you want to touch it, taste it, feel it around you.

“Nothin’ to fuckin’ say?” You know you’re shouting at him, you know you’re scaring the shit out of him, but you can’t stop yourself. You’re right in front of him and you can’t control your anger. You reach out quickly wrapping your hands around his collar;  _your_ collar. You feel powerful as you rip him from his spot and slam him into the wall. It’s harder than you mean to do it but it feels so good to have control for the first time in weeks. His eyes are shut and you want to see them looking at you. Your grip increased unwittingly and his eyes shoot open; brilliant fucking red. His hands reach up and wrap around your wrists and they feel so small in comparison to your own. You want to crush him beneath you and you grip even tighter.

His voice is weak when he says your name. You glare at him and even though your volume is quieter, your voice is still laced with rage. “Real fuckin’ cute, Dave.” You’re in his face now and you want to see him feel all the agony you’ve been dealing with over the past two weeks. You pull your arms back, taking him with you. You’re quick to slam him back into the wall.

A moan slips from his lips and you watch that perfect mouth fall slack. It’s like music to your ears and you’re overcome with everything you’ve desired to do to your little brother for the past few years. You want to hear him moan because of you; you want to hear it from pleasure and not pain. You can’t help yourself when the command just falls out of your drunken mouth.

“Purr.”

The little shit just stares at you like you’re out of your fuckin’ mind. And you are. You shove him against the wall to gain his attention, but you try not to hurt him this time.

“I said purr.”

You watch as that perfect tongue snakes out to wet his lips. You want to feel it on you. The sound starts and your grip loosens a little.

“Louder.”

He looks up at you with those eyes of his and he gets louder by your command. It sends a shot of pleasure down your spine as you watch his face. You’ve all but let him go and he hesitantly brings your hand up to his cat ear. Your eyes snap up to what he’s doing and when you realize he’s letting you touch you can’t stop yourself. They’re so fucking soft. Where _did_  he get these? You can’t help the groan that slips from your lips. You want to touch Dave everywhere. You want to know where else he feels soft. You left your fingers slide into his hair and the strands are like silk beneath your fingertips. He’s still purring and you just want his mouth on you; need to feel how hot it is.

Your other hand drifts from the collar of his shirt and up to his mouth. You run your thumb along his lips and they feel so nice against your skin. You look down at them and he stops purring. Your eyes snap up to meet his and he’s looking at you with confusion written all over his face.

“Open your mouth.” It’s a command and he follows it. His mouth opens and you slide your middle finger into the warmth. It’s so pleasurable and only a fraction of what you want to put in his mouth. You push down on his tongue and he doesn’t move.

“Suck.”

He hesitantly obeys and it feels so fuckin’ nice sliding along his tongue as you push a little deeper into his mouth. Your other hand continues to rub his hair and those soft fuckin’ ears. You push your index finger into his mouth and he doesn’t stop you. If he wanted to stop you he could, you reason, and you let out another groan as he slides his tongue around them as if it were your dick in his mouth instead.

You wish it was your dick in his mouth instead.

You push deeper in, and you’re almost touching his throat. You think with a little training he could learn to deep throat really well. You try to stop the thought but it’s already weaseled its way into your head. He runs that tongue along the entire length of your fingers. “Fuck, Dave.” You can’t help it, he’s turning you on and you know he’s doing it on purpose. It’s hard to find reasons to make yourself stop this before it goes too far when you’re drunk. There’s a small part of your mind telling you to quit, to turn back before it’s too late. But you’re so consumed by the way he looks, the way he sounds and the small bulge you can feel against your leg when he’s this close. He wants this too, isn’t that enough reason to continue?

You remove your fingers from his mouth. This really is something you should wait to approach him with when you’re not drunk. But that noise he just made, needy and pleading for more; you can’t stop now. You smirk, push him towards the couch and he doesn’t put up a fight. You’re sure as far as Dave goes, this is the okay you’re looking for. You sit down on the couch and pat the seat beside you. He takes his sweet ass time as he sits down, and you push him against the edge of the couch. You grunt when he settles against it, tangling your fingers into his hair to pull him in to you. You try to keep it gentler than you prefer; you don’t want to hurt him. You’re quick to run your thumb over his bottom lip and nudge his mouth apart. You’ve wanted this for so long, you don’t think you can stand to wait all the much longer. Not when he’s wearing those kitten ears. Especially not when he’s wearing  _your_ hoodie.

You hover over him; you want to make sure he knows what you’re about to do without having some kind of discussion about it. He looks up at you and you search his eyes for a moment. There’s nothing in there but want and you’re completely blown by how much you didn’t realize he’d want this too. He doesn’t wait for you to make the first move as he pushes his lips against your mouth and they are far better than you’d ever imagined them. For years you’ve battled with your desire to do this and it’s weighed on your mind nearly every time you were with him. You’d never thought to act on it and you never even considered Dave might want you in the same way you want him.

But he does; even if he hasn’t fully realized it yet.

His lips press against yours and you’re quick to push your tongue into his mouth. He doesn’t stop you and you wonder where he learned to kiss because he’s not bad at it. It makes you feel possessive when you think of him kissing someone else. You pull back a little and catch his bottom lip between your teeth. He is yours now and you don’t want to lose him to anyone. You bite down a little harder and his gasp is like fucking music. You want to make him say your name, vow to pull as many noises from his throat as you possibly can. You pull away from him and he lets out a flustered moan. You pull his hair a little tighter and bring your face into the crook of his neck. “I want to make you purr like a fuckin’ kitten,” you growl into his ear and you nearly  _shudder_ at the noise he makes. He wants this as bad as you do and you’re going to make sure he gets it like the spoiled fucking brat he is.  


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which I blatantly insert the title of this fic into the chapter. >>;

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing to say about this one. Enjoy some sloppy makeouts, everyone. ;)

Bro’s lips are hard against yours and before it can even register, he’s pushing his tongue past your lips and into your mouth. It’s hot and his mouth tastes like beer and you find him completely irresistible. You’re quick to run your tongue along his, drawing him farther into your mouth. He pulls back and you’re about to complain when he catches your bottom lip between his teeth. It doesn’t hurt, but it shocks you; sends a jolt into your stomach. You let a gasp slip and you can feel Bro smirking against your mouth. You think he’s going to slip his tongue back into your mouth, but he pulls away. You can’t help it; you let out a flustered noise at the lack of contact that you wanted. But when he pulls your hair and growls into your ear, your frustration quickly turns into desire.

“I want to make you purr like a fuckin’ kitten.”   
 _Shit._ If you didn’t have a boner before, well, you have one now.

You can’t believe you’re on the couch, making out with Bro right now. You hadn’t even realized you’d wanted to until he was finger fucking your mouth. Have you always felt this way? Maybe on some deeper part of you that you didn’t really want to explore because it was “immoral” or whatever society says. You want to know what Bro thinks, but you’re sure that his actions are self-explanatory. But then again, he’s drunk and maybe he’s just horny. You decide not to think about it when he pulls your head back to meet his.

His lips are back on yours and you find yourself wondering if it’s okay to put your hands on him. The fingers he has tangled in your hair drifts between giving a little tug every now and then and touching the cat ears you’ve nearly forgotten were clipped on your head. His other hand isn’t touching you at all and you realize you want it to. You slip your hands down to wrap around Bro’s wrist. He doesn’t seem to care. You pull it up towards your hoodie,  _his_ hoodie, and slip it underneath. If he didn’t notice before, he does now, and he’s pulling his mouth away much to your chagrin. You stare up at him and he quirks an eyebrow at you, giving you a little smirk. His hand lingers on your stomach and you love the difference between the heat of his fingers and the cool leather of his gloves.

“I’ll pet if you purr,” he wages and you have no problem complying. You let the purr bubble from your mouth and his hand starts moving. It feels nice, comforting, and you don’t want him to stop ever; but his hand moves up quickly and when he’s petting your chest you give a little shudder. It feels even better than on your stomach. He’s looking down at you and you can see the grin on his face, but you want to see his eyes. You don’t bother asking you just reach up and slide off his shades. Much to your surprise, he lets you and doesn’t say a single word as you place them on the floor next to your own pair. He blinks his eyes at the difference in lighting and then they’re on you. You can’t remember the last time you’ve seen them; they’re so orange. You take his cap off his head and let it fall onto the floor. It’s not long before your fingers are tangled in his hair and his eyes fall shut.

His hand is barely moving now and you give his hair a little pull. His eyes snap open and he  _growls_ at you. His fingernails slighty dig into the skin on your chest and you squirm under them. It feels good and bad and you like it more than you want to admit. You continue to purr, despite the small itch in your throat. His hand resumes petting your chest, but his hand doesn’t stay there for very long. He brushes his fingertips against your nipple and you let out a small gasp. His hand stills. You give him a questioning look and his lips quirk upwards. Something is silently passed between you. Without words you understand the challenge Bro is presenting you with. You’re quick to accept and start purring. His fingers brush against your nipple again and despite wanting to gasp, you continue to purr.

You think the look on his face is pride when he gives your nipple a little pinch and you don’t break your purr. When the pressure increases and you squirm, but don’t stop purring, you see that look quickly turn from pride to determination. He wants you to lose, not just because it means he’ll hear all your noises, but because it means  _he wins._ You don’t want him to but when he slips his other hand under your shirt and digs his nails into your side you break beneath the pleasure. A moan escapes your lips and you clench your jaw shut. He’s playing dirty and you know it. You let him have his small moment of glory, but when he draws another moan from you, you push your hips up to meet his and it’s  _him_ that lets out a noise of pleasure.

You grin up at him; he’s glaring down at you. You know you caught him off guard and he doesn’t like that one bit. He slips his hands from beneath your shirt and before you have time to protest, he digs his fingers into the fabric of your hoodie and roughly drags it off of you.

You feel exposed to him now and he doesn’t let you adjust before his mouth is on your collar bone; teeth digging into the flesh lightly. “Ahhh!” It’s a half moan, half hiss and you didn’t know your collar bone could be so sensitive. His teeth rake against your skin and you feel your pants grow even tighter with your arousal. His hand gives your nipple a little pinch and you can’t stop your back from arching up into his touch. He peeks up at you and you’re completely blown away by the possessive look in his eye. His tongue darts out and laps at the red teeth marks he left, causing a shudder to ripple down your spine. Goose bumps sprinkle across your skin as he drags his tongue down your chest. It’s hot and you want to ask if he’d kiss you again, but he wraps his mouth around your nipple and you forget what you even wanted.

“Ahh, Bro.”

It’s unlike anything you’ve felt before. You’ve been with a few people, but it never felt right so you’d never done anything other than make out with someone; despite being a notorious “ladies’ man.”

You wonder if it never felt right because you wanted this deep down. You don’t have time to wonder because he’s gently biting down on your nipple now. Your hands fly up to tangle in his hair again and he doesn’t growl when you accidentally tug when he switches sides.

It feels like an eternity of pleasure before he finally pulls away. You bring his head to your mouth; you want to kiss him again so bad. He’s making you feel better than you ever thought was possible and it dawns on you somewhere that you don’t even care if he’s your brother; you care because he’s Bro.

His tongue slides easily into your mouth and you press your body against him. You want to know what his body would feel like beneath your mouth and you’re doing your best to sit fully up. You want  _your_ chance to explore now. You catch his tongue between your teeth and his hand on your hip grips down. You feel his nails dig in and break contact. “Fffuck.”

You put your hand on his chest and give him a little push. It doesn’t move him, but he catches your drift. You’ve always liked that you could communicate with Bro what you wanted without actually having to say anything at all. He leans back and wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you onto him so you’re straddling his hips. You can feel his dick through his jeans and you idly wonder how big it is. The thought sends a wave of heat to your face and he actually chuckles.

He smirks; you glare.

You’re impatient and you grab at Bro’s shirt and tug it up. He lets out another chuckle and helps you out. His shirt is off and even though you’ve seen him shirtless before, it’s different. You run your hands along his abs; so much more defined than yours. He’s got a fuck load more scars than you do and you trace them with your fingers. He’s watching your every move and you lock your eyes with him as you bend down and run your tongue along his stomach. You’re proud when you feel him give a light shudder under your touch and you repeat the process without any hesitation. His body is hot beneath your tongue and hands and you waste no time in exploring it.

Your fingers brush along his nipples and you wonder if they’re as sensitive as yours. He doesn’t make any noise but you can tell he enjoys it by the look in his eyes. You lick a trail up his stomach and to his chest; taking one of his nipples into your mouth. He let his eyes slip shut and you can hear the intake of breath. His hands trail up your sides and into your hair. He runs his fingers along your cat ears. You wonder what he’s thinking about; wonder how it feels for him. Is it any different than how you felt? You want to ask so much but Bro’s not the answering type and you know it. So instead you try to draw answers from his body language as you nip at his skin. It responds similar to your own body; albeit much more controlled. He doesn’t shudder quite like you do and you can only draw a few noises from him.

You figure out where he prefers your attentions; his ribs, the middle of his chest, and when you go from his collar bone to his neck it’s the first time you hear him say anything. “Fuck, Dave,” and it’s throaty and you want to hear more. You nip at the skin and he lets out another groan and you’re proud of yourself. You switch sides and this time when you bite down you push your hips down so your dicks meet.   
  


“Shit.”

His hands drop from your hair and cat ears and wraps around your ass. “Fuckin’ plush,” he comments as he gives it a squeeze. You bite down harder and he presses you down this time. The pleasure bolts into your stomach and you moan against his neck. He pushes you down again and you don’t think you’ve ever felt this good; ever.

But when his hand slips beneath your pants you freeze. You’re not sure how far you want to take this; you’ve never gone this far. You’re also hesitant because you don’t know if Bro is only doing this because he’s drunk. He notices the change in your body language and pulls his hand back out.

You’re about to apologize, but he stifles you with a small kiss. “It’s okay, Dave,” and it’s all he has to say. You’re about to ask if you can give him another kiss when he’s hauling you up.

“Put me down, Bro,” you snarl at him and he just chuckles and carries you into his room. He dumps you on the bed and you grumble and scramble upright.

“Lay down.”

“Fuck no. I’m not sleeping with you.”

“Lay down,” he commands and you mumble obscenities at him while you get comfortable on the bed. You curl up against the wall and he just smiles at you fondly.

“You know you really are like a cat, little bro.”

“What the fuck are you talking about, Bro?”

“You hiss and growl, scratch and bite, but you always come back for attention.”

“Fuck you!”

“You can be the cat of the house.”

“Fuck! Just get in bed, asshole. I’m tired.”  

He doesn’t argue, just slips out of his jeans and you still see that he’s still half hard. You just  _know_ he’s going to get into bed and spoon you and press  _that_ up against your ass. Low and behold, he does just that and he’s asleep within minutes while you struggle to get comfortable with something jabbing at you. But once he’s fully asleep, he softens and you scooch into his arms. You hate to admit it, but you feel good with his warm chest pressed up against your back and his arms around you. You feel safe and find yourself drifting into sleep of your own to the sound of his breathing. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They fight and then makeout. 
> 
> I mean make up. :Y

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, now we are all caught up to where I am on [ Tumblr. ](http://tricky-dingo.tumblr.com)
> 
> For those who don't use Tumblr/don't feel the need to follow me, I usually try to update every other day, sometimes it takes a day longer than usual; but if there is any MAJOR change in updating schedule, be sure to check my Tumblr for that sort of stuff. 
> 
> Okay, uhm. I’m not very good at fight scenes and uh! I hope this isn’t too terrible. I really have no concept of whether it’s good or not; whether it’s too over the top or unbelievable or out of character. -sob- I really hope it’s not and that you guys like it.
> 
> So, uhm. I really don’t have much to say, I’m nervous about this one!

Morning comes quickly and you wake up next to your passed out brother. You blink at the sunlight filtering through the windows and groan when you automatically reach for your shades and realize they’re out in the living room. This jolts your memory of last night and you feel a rush of heat spread through your body. A moment of panic occurs when you think that Bro will reject you once he wakes up. You don’t want that at all, even if you’re not sure exactly what you want. You decide now would be a good time to figure it out, since it’s only 10 am and Bro’s got you in a lock so tight you don’t think you could wiggle away without waking him.

What you did last night felt  _really good_ and you know you don’t want  _that_ to stop. But in regards to how you  _feel_ about Bro, you really aren’t sure what you feel; what you want to feel. You know you like him a lot. You’ve spent your whole life with him around. You know you get along well with him for the most part. He can be a fucking prick sometimes, but you’ve never disliked him for that. You just know that’s how Bro is and he could be a hell of a lot more of an asshole than he chooses to be with you.

You like the way it makes you feel when he’s giving you his attention. When he’s talking to you about something he likes, and even more so, when it’s about something you like. You’ve always gotten a little rush when he asks you about your day or to share some of your new sick beats. You don’t think that you’ve been happier than when he’s showing you that he  _is_ interested in your life. You know you also get upset, even if you won’t admit it, when he books a lot of gigs and doesn’t come home when he goes out. Is this just because he’s your brother and you want to spend more time with him? Or is there something more to it?

For a while, you’ve been wondering who Bro was with. Was he going home with some chick? Was it meaningless? Did he still talk to them? You begin to feel your body heat up with the sick feeling of jealousy that you want to punch yourself for. It’s only adding to the pile of things you have to sift through and figure out what is platonic feelings and what  _isn’t._

Bro’s arms squeeze you tighter in his sleep and you find yourself leaning even farther into his chest.

Okay, so that shudder when his breath ghosts across your neck isn’t really platonic.

There’s something more to your feelings and you’re relieved you got  _something_  figured out, but also agitated that there’s so much more you don’t understand about everything. Your whole world has tipped on its side and you’re scrambling to get it turned right side up. But everything is so fucking confusing when Bro doesn’t wear his feelings on the outside; or really anywhere at all it seems. You’ve seen more in the past twenty-four hours, than you think you’ve seen your whole life. At least the parts you can remember well. Yet, you still have almost no idea what he’s thinking and feeling.

It makes you curious if he was warmer towards you when you were a child. Not that you really want to discuss how he raised you. It might freak him out. You know it kind of freaks you out when you think of Bro as the person who changed you and fed you as what was essentially a stand-in father. But just because he did that, doesn’t mean that you’re not attracted to Bro as he is; father-figure or brother otherwise.

Your attraction to him is obvious to you now. You realize that for the past few months  _at least_ you’ve possibly stared at him a little longer than you should when he’s shirtless around you. You realize that you’ve been looking forward to his random touches here and there. That maybe you’ve felt a little  _too good_  when he’s ruffled your hair or placed his hand on your shoulder while observing your homework.

So how long have you been suppressing your feelings then?

No, you don’t need to ask yourself any more fucking questions. You have enough to deal with right now.

It’s inching towards eleven now and you’ve got so little figured out and you begin to think you may be overcomplicating it. You like Bro; you’re pretty sure Bro likes you. Should anything else really matter? Despite still feeling like there’s a thousand things you want to know you decide that no; nothing else matters to you. And you’re glad you’ve come to a resolution because you can feel Bro beginning to wake up.

To your dismay his arms loosen around you and he grunts and rolls onto his back. You aren’t sure if you should pretend to sleep, but the second the thought crosses your mind, you scrap it. Bro would know. You wonder what he’s going to say, how he’s going to react, when he realizes what he’s done. You decide it’s better to get it over with and roll over on your other side. Bro’s eyes flash to you and you feel naked without your shades. He takes in your shirtless form and the cat ears still attached to your head. “Oh, fuck.”

You know it’s all rushing back to him now. Panic begins to gnaw at your stomach.

“Dave,” he starts and his voice is dark and you can tell he’s about to flip shit on you. You know that look in on his face and you’ve never seen it in his eyes until now. It’s possibly one of the most nerve-wracking things you’ve ever seen. You decide it’s now or never to stop him from ruining your resolution.

“Bro, stop.” You try to put as much authority in your voice as possible. You watch his eyes narrow.

“I don’t want to hear it.” He’s pushing himself into a sitting position and you force yourself not to look at anything but his eyes. This is important to you and you  _will_ make him listen.

“That’s just too fucking bad.”

“Shut the fuck up, Dave.”

“You shut the fuck up, Bro!” You’re half yelling now and you watch as his eyes give away just a little hint of the surprise he’s feeling. “I don’t know what I am to you, or if you were just looking to fuck someone last night,” you start out and it’s loud and you pull it down a note and do your best to control your voice. “But I know how I feel and I don’t want any fucking bullshit excuses from you about how it’s ‘wrong’ or how-“

“It  _is_  wrong.”

“Since when have you ever cared about what society thinks is wrong or right?”

“This isn’t about that.”

“Then explain to me why it’s so wrong!”

“I raised you from a fucking baby. I’m your older brother; your guardian. It’s not okay for things like _last night_ to happen between us.” His voice is completely level, with a hint of authority in it that you feel like shrinking beneath. But you hold strong. You can tell he’s not finished so you bite your tongue; but you’re not giving up easily.

“It’s  _not okay_ for me to have these _‘feelings’_ for you.”

You open your mouth to say something snarky when you snap your jaw shut. You can tell Bro realizes he’s said the wrong thing for his argument.

“So you do have feelings for me?”

He’s up and out of the bed, already reaching the door of his room. You’re not as good as he is and you know it, but you can tell he’s a little hung over so maybe you can stop him. You focus yourself and flash step after him. You catch him right as he’s about to pull open the apartment door. You’ve never been one to initiate physical contact, but you don’t think you have a choice. You grab his arm as hard as you can and wrench him backwards into the apartment. You’re not as strong as he is, but you caught him off guard and he stumbles backwards but stays on his feet. He turns around and his eyes are burning into yours.

“This can’t happen, end of discussion. Drop it, Dave.”

You’re angry and you take a step forward so you’re able to fully return his determined look. Somewhere in the back of your mind you wonder if you’ll ever be as tall as he is.

“I really do get why you’re freaking out, okay? I know we’re probably fucked up to feel this way, but that doesn’t change the fact that we do.” You’re angry and you can see he wants to say something but he doesn’t. You take this as your chance to make your last appeal to him. It’s a shot in the dark and but you hope it’ll work. He seems like he’s already made up his mind. You close the distance between you two and he doesn’t move away. You very, very slowly put your hands on his hips. He glances down and moves to push your hands off but drops them when you tighten your grip.

“Bro, I don’t want things to go back to the way they were,” the tone is polar-opposite to your previous one and you do your best not to look as upset as you actually kind of feel.

It’s a long time before he says anything; it’s a long time before you even feel him move at all. He lets out a long breath and puts his arms around your shoulders and pulls you closer. The relief, his warmth, the safe feeling you get in his arms; it all feels so fucking wonderful. You’re quick to wrap your arms around his waist and press him closer to you. You’re sure you won and you feel a mixture of pure joy and pride ripple through you.

He presses his face into your hair and you let out a contented sigh at the contact. He pulls back after a moment and you take the chance to turn your face up to meet his and press a kiss to his jaw. His grip tightens on you and he leans his face down to meet you halfway.

It feels better then even last night did. This time because you have him for real. He’s yours to keep for as long as he’ll let you, and you will make sure that it’s forever because you don’t want to let him go.

It’s short and sweet; leaves you wanting more.

“Make me coffee,” he demands and you roll your eyes at him, but proceed to the kitchen despite not wanting to pull away from his arms. You’re pretty sure he went back to his room because when you glance into the living room he’s gone. You’re pulling out the coffee filters when you nearly jump out of your skin at Bro pressing his chest to your back, his hands trailing over your chest.

“I can’t stand those ears; they’re too fucking perfect.” He nuzzles into your hair again and you groan when his hands trail over your stomach.

“Bro, I can’t make coffee with you in my way,” you grunt, and he lightly drags his nails down your sides. You give a small noise of protest but don’t move to stop him at all.

“Don’t want it anymore,” he hums into your ear and you set down the pack of filters in your hands so you don’t drop it. You try to turn around, but his body pins you into place. You glance back at him and he just smirks down at you. His fingers run up your left side to your shoulder blades. You do your best to control the small shivers that are trying to wrack your body. They begin to slip down your spine and it tickles and feels good all at the same time. They end right at your tail bone and you can feel his hand reach down to grab your ass over your jeans. “You need a tail,” he tells you, before leaning down and tracing his tongue across your spine.

It feels better than you could imagine and you find yourself shuddering beneath his mouth.

“Fuck,” you breathe out and he’s got you off your feet in a second flat. He’s dumping you on the bed like the night before and you’re beginning to grow impatient with this routine he’s getting into. But you don’t have time to complain when he’s on top of you and his hands are everywhere and you’re feeling a pleasure unlike anything else. You don’t want to complain; it’s all too fucking perfect.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Collars. That is all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, since I have time, I'll put this up now!
> 
> This will probably be updates on the same day for anything posted on Monday/Tuesday, but the rest of the week, check my [ Tumblr! ](http://tricky-dingo.tumblr.com)
> 
> Anyway, I really had a hard time writing this chapter at the beginning. I just kept getting upset at everything I wrote, but I pushed on and I think it actually turned out kinda tasty. 
> 
> I hope you all think so too! 
> 
> <3

Things have been a little different over the past week.

Now that you know you can, it’s hard for you to keep your hands off of Bro. You’re constantly in awe at how soft his skin feels despite all the raised ridges of his scars; how he’s able to control most things when your hands are on him.

When he’s touching you, you can never fully stifle all the noises that fall out of your mouth. Especially when he’s making you purr for him. There’s something incredibly _hot_ about when he’s commanding you to do something.

_Shit._

It’s strange because whenever he’d command you to do something before, you’d get pissed. You guess that’s because this is different. He’s making you do something that makes him feel good, while it makes you feel hornier than you’ve ever felt before.

You like when you catch his eyes on you while you stretch. You’ve made it a point to stretch as much as possible these days. You can always see him clench his jaw, as if he’s holding back from going over there and ripping off your clothes.

You tried to sleep alone, but you couldn’t get comfortable and you ended up crawling into Bro’s bed. He was awake; he knew you were coming. Once beneath his arms you were finally able to fall asleep. It was completely embarrassing at first. Bro teased you until you got so mad one night and refused to come to bed. You locked yourself in your room and tried to sleep on your own. Half an hour later you felt him slide up behind you and you glared at him in the dark. Of course he’d pick the lock; fucking prick. But you were grateful; even if you didn’t say it out loud. It was difficult for the two of you to get comfortable on your tiny bed, but you managed to finally fold around each other comfortably. You were almost asleep when you felt a little kiss on your ear. “I can’t sleep without you either.” It was quiet and you weren’t sure you even heard him at all; but from that day on, you always got into Bro’s bed and enticed him to join you even if he wasn’t tired. You would make him tired.

It’s been getting harder for you to keep saying no to Bro every night. You can tell he wants you to say yes every time his mouth strays farther than your stomach and his fingers inch towards the button of your pants. You want to say yes, but you’re just not sure yet. It’s not like you’re some kind of sentimental virgin; you just want to make sure it will mean the same thing to Bro as it does to you. And maybe it will because Bro is always so understanding and doesn’t ever let you apologize. He just moves back up your stomach slowly, trailing up your chest and paying your collar bone more attention than you can bear. You want to tell him why, but you don’t want to tell him at the same time. It would be an unneeded conversation that would be filled with awkward silences and completely unironic statements.

Not something you would ever do willingly.

 

It’s passing four AM and you’re dead tired. Bro has you underneath him and you want him to keep grinding against your body; but you’re so tired. You wrap your hands around his arms and lazily push your hips upward to meet his; letting out a small hiss at the contact. He brings a hand to your chest and holds you down against the bed. “If you can’t keep up, just go to sleep,” he smirks and you feel irritated with his tone but you can’t deny that you’re drained. Before he even gives you the chance to decide, he’s collapsing beside you and pulling you against his chest. It’s so hot; you’re so fucking horny. It’s making it hard to get comfortable and you’re not sure how much longer you can hold out. Just as your eyelids droop, you think that you may not want to hold out anymore.

Bro’s hand traces a pattern up your spine and reaches up to the cat ears clipped in your hair. You feel like they’re nearly a part of you now; you hardly notice them. He, on the other hand, wants to touch them and stroke them all the time.

“Tomorrow,” his voice has a sort of edge to it that you can’t really discern when you’re this exhausted. You don’t say anything and he tilts your chin up to look at him. “Can we go get you a collar?”

Your eyes open slowly, and you take in his question. He’s asking, so it means that he doesn’t want you to do something you don’t feel comfortable with. He’s giving you yet _another_ chance to say no. It strikes into your stomach and you feel the heat inside you roll into your face. Fuck, you hate it when you blush. You can see it on his face; he knows your answer. The small grin that tugs at his lips is just annoying as shit; yet, you can’t deny how much it makes you feel like hugging him.  

“Yeah, but it has to be the most ironic cat collar in the history of forever, Bro,” you mumble and he tells you to shut up and go to sleep. He kisses your temple and you lazily wrap your arm around his stomach. You fall asleep soon, despite your half hard dick and the heat.

The sun greets you in the early afternoon and you grunt and roll over. When you don’t connect with Bro’s body, you lift yourself up to see if he’s in his computer chair. He’s not there and you feel nervous for some reason you can’t fathom. It’s just Bro never wakes up this early and you don’t hear the shower. You wonder if you’re supposed to get out of bed or not; wonder if he just had to pee like a racehorse or some shit. When he doesn’t appear in the room after a minute you swing your legs off the side of the bed and stretch before heading for the door. As you open it, the scent of bacon smacks you in the face and your stomach growls louder than you think you’ve heard it growl before.

 _Holy shit._ Did someone break into your apartment, desperate to make bacon, because their stove was broken? You haven’t smelled legitimate food in the house in a long ass time. _Holy fuck,_ it’s Bro cooking. You’re blown away. There’s nothing else, just bacon; but you are so fucking okay with that.

You take a seat at the table and he puts a glass of apple juice and a pile of bacon in front of you. “Want some cereal, little bro?”

“Fuck yeah. Did you get the good stuff?”

“Who the fuck do you think I am?”

You smirk at him and he pours you a bowl of Cookie Crisp and you feel like you’re in heaven. You scarf down your food and when you’re finished he tells you to go get dressed. You quirk an eyebrow out him. “What for?”

“We’re getting you a collar, dumbshit.”

You can’t control the small blush that breaks across your cheeks. Oh, yeah. You’d forgotten about that in your bacon indulged bliss. Shit. He grins at you as you turn quickly to go to your room. You take your sweet ass time getting new clothes on; you’re not exactly thrilled with this. You thought he was going to order one online or something. You didn’t realize he was going to drag you and make you _try them on_.

You’re nervous as you exit your bedroom and he’s leading you out the door. Where are you even going to go? You sure the fuck hope not PetSmart or something equally as mortifying.

When he pulls into the parking lot of “Erotix” you just die inside. Okay, PetSmart was looking really fucking good in comparison, now.

“Bro. You can’t take me into a sex shop.”

“Just watch me, little man.”

You want to make a run for it, but he’s got you by the shirt when you try to go back to the truck at the front door.

“Calm the fuck down, Dave.”

You calm the fuck down on the outside.

But when you step through the door, you get an eyeful of latex and chains and other things you didn’t really want to see today. It’s hard to stay calm inside. Jesus, what the fuck is half this shit even for?

Bro takes you down an aisle solely dedicated to glass dildos and then turns down another one. He stops you in front of a display of collars and _fuck_ there are so many of them. He just stands there, quietly, and you wonder what he’s thinking about.

“Pick one.”

Wait, he wants _you_ to pick one out? How the fuck are you going to even decide? They all look equally as horrifying to try on. Someone walks by and does a double take. Oh, god, someone is going to call CPS on Bro, you’ve got to get out of here.

You look them over and they pretty much all look generic. Leather collars; black or brown. Some with spikes. Something you could have just gotten at the dumb pet store. But, as you’re about to settle on a plain black one, something bright catches your eye when you reach out. Something orange.

You drop down to examine it; before you’ve even got it out from behind the other ones, you know it’s perfect. You move aside the ugly brown leather and pull it from the shelf. It’s orange and white checkered, with a little bell that jingles as you examine it. You run your finger along the strip of fabric and it feels really nice. The inside is silky and you wonder why no one else bought it. When you turn to look at Bro you see on his face that this is the right one. You reach up to try it on, but his hand stops yours before you can get it on your neck. He takes a quick glance before leaning down to whisper in your ear.

“If you put it on here, I’m going to have to take you into the bathroom.”

The growl in his voice sends shivers down your spine and you try to push the idea out of your head. That would be very, very bad. You nod, hand him the collar, and drop your hands to your side; trying to ignore the fact that you’re half hard from barely anything. You follow him down the aisle and some tails catch your eye. “Hey Bro, didn’t you want one?” you call after him quietly, pointing at the display.

“I already ordered you one,” he throws over his shoulder, not bothering to stop.

You blush hardcore. When the fuck did he…?

You quickly make your way for the door; you’re done in here. Outside you lean against the truck. You’re nervous, but excited to see what he ordered you. Mostly nervous. You know that Bro runs a porn site, so you can only imagine he’s gotten you something very, very awful. You also know it’s probably orange. Maybe even custom made.

Bro steps out of the shop and unlocks the truck. He pushes the bag in your lap and turns the car on. He wastes no time in backing out of the parking lot. You know he’s going to speed to get you home as quick as possible.

Half of you wants to get home right now, but the other half is so fucking riled up and anxious. You resist the urge to peak into the bag and look at your new “accessory.” You hope to god this one doesn’t become a (practically) permanent thing like your ears. You don’t know if you could take the humiliation.

You’re parked and making your way up the stairs after Bro in no time. He’s flash stepping, but you’re trying to stall as much as possible. Once at the door, he ushers you in and closes it with his foot. You’re smashed up against the wall in less than a second, his hands quickly pushing up your shirt. Well, _fuck._ You didn’t realize it was affecting Bro quite _this_ much, and you don’t even have the damned thing on yet.

You pull away to catch your breath and he’s got the collar in his hand. He removes his shades and then yours; pushes you towards the bedroom and you decide _what the hell._ You’re already hard; you’ve liked everything else he’s done up until this point. You trust Bro.

He rips your shirt over your head and pushes you down so you’re sitting on the edge of the bed. His hand reaches under your chin and pushes your face up so you’re looking at him. Dark, possessive, eyes meet your hesitant ones; he’s got the collar between both hands.

“You’re mine, now.”  
  
You swallow down a bit of nerves that bundle in your throat. You feel the collar wrap around it not more than two seconds later, the silk cool against your skin. You feel him tighten it around your throat and he adjusts it to the perfect fit. His hand reaches to the bedside table and when you turn to look at what he’s doing, the collar jingles. _Your_ collar jingles. You feel heat rush across your body. He makes short work of clipping in your ears and his hand lingers on them for a little while.

He traces a line down your face and brings his fingers to rest under your chin. He gives it a light scratch and you know what he wants you to do.

You know you want him to make you do it.

After you remain quiet for a few moments, he fingers snake beneath the collar and pull tightly against it. You groan as you’re jerked forward and the bell rings in your ears. _Fuck,_ you’ve never been so turned on. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is all smut. Really...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry! I forgot to post this up last night on here!
> 
> Those of you following my Tumblr probably already read it! 
> 
> > u >
> 
> I'll try to be more remembering next time.
> 
> Also. All this is is smut.
> 
> So.... I hope you like smut!

“Purr for me, kitty,” he commands you gruffly and you groan at what his voice is doing to you. He gives you another rough jerk when you don’t comply right away, and you let out a loud hiss. You feel his hand tighten and you realize he likes that noise, too. You look up at him, your eyes burning into his and let out as feral of a hiss as you can manage with the collar pulled taught. You love the sounds of the bell as he jerks you up on your feet. Before you can even get your balance, he’s pushing you down on the bed. You fall backwards and scramble to make room for him. He’s quick to crawl on top of you and you throw another hiss at him.

Looks like you’re going to be a bad kitty today; not sweet and innocent like usual. You can’t tell if Bro likes it better this way; he probably likes both equally. Bro likes practically everything.

His hand tangles in your hair and you snarl up at him. You’re not sure what brought this out of you, but you’re so into this right now. You never thought you’d have a thing for collars; or any of this really.  _Fuck._ You’re going to be just like Bro, probably. It starts with a cat kink and you’re sure you’ll be fucking smuppets next week.

He turns your head and bites down on the skin above your collar. You suck in a breath through your teeth; fuck it feels so good. You push him off you and pull his shirt over his head. The minute you have it discarded across the room, he’s got you beneath his teeth again. You hiss at him, dragging your nails down his back. He bites down harder and you push your hips up against him. You’re so hard, and  _god damn,_ so is he.

His fingers remove themselves from your hair and push against your lips. You don’t even hesitate to swallow them into your mouth, sucking at them greedily. He lets out a very small groan and you feel proud you dragged it from him.

You revel in the feeling of his free hand’s nails trailing down your side, in his fingers pushing down against your tongue, and in the grinding of your dicks together.  _Shit,_ it’s all so much and you just  _need_ so much more. You bite down on his fingers lightly and he pulls them out. You pant a little, trying to catch your breath and figure out what you want to say. You really don’t want to say anything, so you wrap your hand around Bro’s wrist, moving it down and placing it over the bulge in your jeans. He looks up at you, quirks and eyebrow as if asking you if it’s what you really want; if you’re one-hundred percent sure.

And you are. You’re more than one-hundred percent sure. You push your hips up, shoving yourself against his hand. He still doesn’t move; he’s just watching you with a look of disbelief.

“Bro, please,” you nearly whimper and you curse yourself for sounding so needy. But fuck, you do need this.

A grin spreads across his lips and he’s rubbing you through your jeans, and fuck you don’t ever want him to stop, and shit it feels so good. You begin to purr without being told and Bro’s eyes snap to your face. You can tell he’s pleased by this. He’s stroking you so slowly and you want him to move faster. You thrust up into his hand and he smirks at you. “Impatient, little kitten.” He pushes your hips down and you groan when he slows down even more.

“Please,” you look straight at him and he obliges you, rubbing a little faster. You try to push up, but he’s much stronger than you. His hand stops completely and you let out a disgruntled noise. “Bro, what are y-.”

His hand flicks open the button of your jeans and gives you a small opportunity to stop him before he’s unzipping them. You lift your head to watch, your bell ringing as you move. He gives you a “last chance” look and you take in a deep breath. You let it out and give a little nod and then he’s pulls your pants off your hips.

He quirks an eyebrow at your heart boxers and you do your best not to snarl at him. You think they’re badass. But you don’t have much time to think about anything; his hand is pumping you through your boxers. It feels even better now; you can’t imagine what it’ll feel like when he’s touching you without them. Your face feels hot; you’re sure you’re blushing. You feel yourself purring beneath his touch and you toss your head back. The bell jingles against your throat and Bro’s hand reaches up to tug on the collar. He brings your head forward.

“I want you to watch.”

You can’t help the moan that bubbles from your throat. His fingers remain wrapped in your collar and you try to jerk your head back, but he just holds tighter. You like his control over you; it makes you ever  _harder_  underneath his hand. Once again, his hand stills and you snarl at him.

“Don’t stop, fuck.”

“Calm the fuck down.”

You hiss at him and he smirks. He drops his hand from your collar and you feel relieved and disappointed. You didn’t know your spine was feeling cramped from your position and you’re able to stretch back out. You give a little sigh as you do and he runs his hand down your chest and to your boxers. Your eyes dart quickly to him and you know what he’s going to do next.

Part of you panics a little, but you calm yourself. It’s okay. You want him to; you could stop him if you wanted him to stop. You still can, you know he will if you asked him to. He’s already giving you that tentative look and you give him a nod and your boxers are gone after that. He’s just staring at you and you feel a little self-conscious under his eyes. It feels like forever, but when he looks up at you, you can see he’s absolutely pleased with you.

“Fuckin’ prefect.”

You shiver a little at the feeling of his hot breath ghosting over the head of your penis. He wraps his long fingers around the shaft and then he pulls his hand off.

“Goddammit, Bro!” you growl and him and his rolls his eyes.

“What? Just gonna take my fuckin’ gloves off, pussy.”

You hesitate for a moment, but then throw caution to the wind. You’ve already admitted to your newfound pet kink; why bother trying to hide anything now?

“Leave them on.”

His hand is back on your dick and you can feel the cool leather on you. It makes you groan and you want to thrust into his hand; not that it would do you any good. He’s pumping you so fucking slowly and you just want to punch him in the face and then kiss him in apology.

Fuck. He’s speeding up a little now and you let out a little “aah,” to the feeling. It feels so much better than when you do it. So much fucking better. You peek down at him and you realize he’s watching you, rather intently. You wonder if he wants you to do something. When you’re about to ask he presses his lips to the head of your cock and you realize he wants to know if it’s okay.

And it is more than okay.

“God, yes, Bro.” Your voice is a little shaky and you curse yourself for it. He’s got so much power over your body and you know he loves it; you know he’s proud of himself. The way he grins when you do something that you’re trying to hold back says it all. His eyes connect with yours as he sticks his tongue out and draws it up the head.

“Ahhh, fuuuck,” you hiss. Your fingers grip the sheets; it’s so hard to watch but so hard to look away. You reach your hands up and knock the cap off Bro’s head. Threading your fingers into his hair, you scratch at his scalp when he licks a slowly down your shaft. Pulling back, he tongues at your slit and oh, fuck, this is the greatest thing you’ve ever felt.

Or it was until he swallowed you down in one swift motion.

“SHIT. BRO. FFFUCK!”

You can feel the back of his throat. His mouth is so hot around you. You want to blow your load right the fuck now, but you know he’d never let you live it down. He pulls back, dragging his tongue along your dick. The moan just spills from your lips and you don’t even bother trying to control them now. You know he wants to hear all the noises you make and the thought turns you on and you don’t know how much more turned on you can get. He wraps his hand around you and gives a little squeeze. You squirm under his grasp and he smirks before pressing his lips back to your dick. His eyes are glued to yours as he kisses down your shaft and you can’t look away.

He kisses back up and stops at the head, his tongue lapping at the dripping precum. His hand drops from the base and he’s swallowing you again; his hand moving to cup your balls. You can’t watch him now; his eyes are making you want to cum. Fuck; it’s too good.

Bro gives your balls a gentle squeeze and you thrust up into his mouth on accident. You nearly freeze in horror, but you can’t mistake the groan of pleasure that you can hear and  _feel._ He holds still and you wonder what he wants when he raises an eyebrow at you.

 _No._ He can’t seriously want you to do it again; but when you thrust up against your better judgment you realize that’s  _exactly_ what he wants you to do. He seriously wants you to fuck his mouth.

Your fingers tighten in his hair as you give another tentative thrust and he groans around your dick. You can’t believe you’re doing this; but you are and it feels so fucking wonderful. A few more thrusts and you have his fingers tangled in the sheets beside you never thought you’d ever have this much power over him. Ever.

It’s such an amazing feeling and now you understand why Bro likes it so much. Your pace is getting faster and you feel like you’re going to choke him, but he does nothing but give small noises of pleasure when you thrust what feels like too far. You’d have never guessed Bro would like this; you think  _you_ like it too much.

“Bro,” you groan out and you’re trying so hard to control your voice; to convey your thoughts in something other than curse words. He looks up at you and you make the mistake of looking down at him. No, it’s too late. You’re going to come in about five seconds.

“Oh, fuck, Bro, I’m going to-,” but he doesn’t let you finish. He pulls off your dick, quickly wrapping a hand around you and pumping you at the same speed you were thrusting. It takes you too long to realize what he’s doing; you’re already spilling cum on his face.

He gently strokes you as you ride out the best orgasm you’ve ever had. It isn’t until you’re able to peek at him that he moves to clean off his face. His fingers dip into your cum and you watch in awe as he licks it off. If you hadn’t just came, you would be very hard from the site.

“You taste so good, little bro,” he purrs and you feel heat rising in your body.

“Jesus.” It’s really all you can manage; you’re still feeling light and dazed.

But he doesn’t let you rest for long. He sits up slowly and looks down at you. His hand drops to the large bulge in his pants and you glance up at him nervously.

“You gonna return the favor?”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one's from Bro's POV! :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright. So this took a LONG time to write because I work 40 hours a week AND it's nearly 7,500 words. >>;  
> Also, I have to read the previous chapters alongside writing Bro's chapter so I can sync it up. It's a lot of work, but I think it's rewarding. u w u 
> 
> So I really, really hope you guys enjoy this one!
> 
> I'll get working on Chapter 11 either tonight or tomorrow.

You can’t believe how fucking soft Dave’s hair is; how soft those little cat ears are. You can’t stop touching them and you don’t want to anyway. The little noises he makes beneath you are making you so fuckin’ hard. You barely feel it when he wraps his hand around your wrists, but when he pushes it under his shirt, you have to stop and look at him.

And holy fuck, he’s about the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. Face flushed, panting for air, cat ears perfectly positioned on his head. You quirk your eyebrow at him and he gives you a look that makes you want to swallow him whole.

“I’ll pet if you purr,” you tell him and he’s very quick to comply with your demand. You can feel the vibrations of his purr in his body and you begin to rub his stomach in circles. It sort of reminds you of when he was little but you bite it down. You are not going to fuckin’ think about Dave as a child right now. Last thing you need. You move your hand up to his chest and his purr increases in volume; his body shivers a little beneath your touch. It’s absolutely fuckin’ perfect.

Dave’s hands reach up to your shades and for a brief second you feel the urge to slap them away. But you let him take them off, and  _shit_ is it bright in the fuckin’ living room. When your eyes adjust and you see the look in his eyes, you’re glad you let him take them off. His hands reach up to take off your hat and you nearly groan at the feeling of his fingers tangled in your hair. Your eyes slip at the feeling and you don’t notice that you’ve nearly stopped moving your hand; but Dave notices. You feel him tug on your hair and you snap you eyes up to his face. You let out a growl and drag your nails across his chest. Dave squirms beneath you and you are so completely taken with how fuckin’  _precious_  he looks. He’s still purring and you love the sound. An idea strikes you as you watch him below you.

You brush your fingers against his nipple and you hear him gasp. You stop moving your hand and he looks at you in confusion; but he gets it after a few seconds. You’ve always been proud of how well he’s able to pick up on your non-verbal commands. He starts purring and you bring your hand back to his nipple, giving it a small pinch. You can hear a tiny falter in his purr, but he doesn’t let it break off and you grin down at him. You give it another tweak and he still doesn’t break. You want him to break. You want to be the one that breaks him. You slip your other hand beneath his hoodie and dig your nails into his skin and he emits the most delicious moan you’ve heard from him yet. You smirk at him and just as you’re about to say something, he pushes his hips up so your dicks meet. Fuck, it feels so good and you let a groan of pleasure slip from behind your teeth. You’ve wanted this for  _so fuckin’ long_.

He’s grinning up at you like he just won the fuckin’ lottery and you glare at him. You quickly remove your hands from underneath the hoodie and rip it off of his body. Without skipping a single beat you bring your mouth to his collar bone and sink your teeth into the flushed skin. He lets out a tasty little noise and you put a little more pressure into the bite. His nipple is already hard beneath your fingers as you roughly pinch the little, pink bud. He arches into your touch and you love the way you have complete control over him like this. He looks down at you and you meet his gaze; you drag your tongue along the teeth marks you’ve left. He shivers and you can feel goosebumps underneath your tongue as you drag it down the middle of his chest. You can’t hold back anymore as you take his nipple between your teeth.

“Ahh, Bro.”

Your dick is so hard; you want him to say your name again. You want him to say it over and over again. You want him to scream it while you’re inside of him.

When you switch sides he tugs on your hair again and you like the way his fingers feel curled tightly in the strands. You give his other nipple equal attention and then finally pull away. He pulls you up to his lips and you don’t complain at his needy, forwardness. You slide your tongue into his mouth and he presses his hot body against you. He tries to sit up and you wonder what he’s doing. Catching your tongue between his teeth, you dig your fingernails into his hips. He pulls away, his voice coming out low and quiet. “Fffuck.”

He puts his hand on your chest and you feel a firm push from him. You don’t budge, but you know what he wants. You know what  _you_ want. Leaning back, you pull him with you so he’s straddling you.  _Fuck,_ it’s one of the things you wanted to see so badly. It’s everything you imagined and more. Now, if only you could see him ride you; that would be even fuckin’ better. You watch his face as a dark blush spreads across his pale cheeks. You can’t help the smirk that pulls at your lips; he’s absolutely perfect.

He’s glaring at you now and you feel him try to tug your shirt off like you did his. He’s so fuckin’ cute and you chuckle as he flounders to undress you. You take pity on him and pull it the rest of the way off. You watch as he takes in your chest, your abs, your scars. He delicately traces his fingers across them and you idly wonder what he’s thinking about. His eyes wander up your body and stare into yours. You stare right back; don’t miss the look when he bends over and runs his tongue along the top of your stomach. You groan; fuck. That kid has  _perfect_  blow job eyes. His tongue is hot as he runs it along your skin. He reaches up and brushes your nipple. Fuck, you like how much he’s into this; you can feel how hard he is. You run your hands along his sides and tangle them in his hair, run your fingers against his cat ears.

He does his best you please you; you fuckin’  _love_ that. When his teeth run across your ribs you can’t control the bodily shudder. It’s worse when he ends up with his tongue lapping at your throat; his teeth gently sinking in. You want him to bite down hard, but the only words you can summon are a throaty, “Fuck, Dave.”

He understands, nips harder. Then he pushes his hips down to grind against your dick.

“Shit.”  _Shit._ Dave is so hard against you; this is so wrong, but so  _fuckin’ right._ You drop your hands from his head and roughly grab his ass. It’s so fuckin’ nice underneath your hands. Just like a smuppet.

“Fuckin’ plush,” and he bites down even harder and you grind him down against you this time. You don’t even think about it when you slide your hand down his pants. You feel him go rigid beneath your touch and you pull your hand out without hesitation. You don’t want him to do anything he doesn’t want to do. And you see that look in his eyes that you recognize from his childhood. He’s going to try to  _apologize._

You press your lips to his. You don’t want to hear it; don’t want him to feel like he  _has_  to say it. “It’s okay, Dave,” you assure him. You’ll have all the chances in the world to touch when he’s ready; and you will touch every chance you fuckin’ get.

Before he can catch his bearings, you haul him from the couch and carry him to your room.

“Put me down, Bro,” he snarls at you and you laugh. You dump him in a heap on your bed and he scrambles up.

“Lay down.” It sounds more like a command than it really is. You can’t command him when he’s being this fuckin’  _cute._

“Fuck no. I am not sleeping with you.”

You try not to laugh as you tell him to lie down once more. He grumbles all the curse words  _you_ taught him and plops down. He scooches as close to the wall as he possible. Watching the sight, you can’t help the smile that breaks your poker face.

“You know you really are like a cat, little bro.”

“What the fuck are you talking about, Bro?” He’s glaring at you and you just can’t help it; you want to ruffle his hair.

“You hiss and growl, scratch and bite, but you always come back for attention.”

“Fuck you!”

“You can be the cat of the house,” you tell him and you love the glare he throws right at you. He really is the  _perfect,_ little kitten.

“Fuck! Just get in bed, asshole. I’m tired.”

You have no reason to argue so you take your pants off and climb into bed. You prefer to sleep naked but you know Dave will flip his shit, and fuck if you’re going to listen to that right now when you’ve got blue balls. You pull him right into you and you can feel him try and squirm away. Once your head hits the pillow, you fall asleep with your arms wrapped around Dave.

Morning hits you hard with a hangover. Well, shit, you didn’t even drink that much. Your arms are wrapped around someone and you have no idea who it is. You open your eyes and catch the lightest strands of hair and when you pull your head back you see two very, very orange cat ears.

“Oh fuck _,” shit. FUCK._

Everything comes rushing back and you’re completely disgusted with yourself. How could you let this happen? How could you take advantage of your little brother like that? You stare at the ceiling, the sunlight searing your eyes. You have to put a stop to whatever this was,  _now._

You see your little bro roll over and face you; his eyes burn with something you can’t figure out the meaning to.

“Dave.” You turn to face him fully and even though you’re exhausted you still put an edge to your voice. You don’t expect it when he retorts, his own voice carrying the same authoritative tone as your own.

“Bro, stop.”

This  _can’t_ happen. “I don’t want to hear it,” and you push yourself up. You’re sure he’ll back down but before you’re even fully sitting up, he opens his mouth.

“That’s just too fucking bad.”

You’re blown away by how forward he’s being. How the fuck is he so calm about this? You took advantage of not only a minor, but your  _brother._

“Shut the fuck up, Dave,” but before you have time to do anything else he’s already retaliating.

“You shut the fuck up, Bro!”

His voice is loud and it causes you to actually look at him instead of avoiding his determined eyes. “I don’t know what I am to you, or if you were just looking to fuck someone last night.” This pisses you off and you feel the overwhelming urge to smack him in the mouth. You’re not like  _that;_ at least not with him _._  He’s loud at first but he brings his voice down to level. You’re grateful for that; your head is pounding. But you do  _not_ want to have a  _discussion_ about this. Especially not now. No less, he isn’t finished and you grit your teeth. “But I know how I feel and I don’t want any fucking bullshit excuses from you about how it’s ‘wrong’ or how-“

“It  _is_  wrong,” you cut him off. How can he not see that there is something very  _wrong_ about this? How fucked up do you have to be to finger rape your little brother’s mouth?

“Since when have you ever cared about what society thinks is wrong or right?”

“This isn’t about that,” You tell him and he shoots you a dirty look.

“Then explain to me why it’s so wrong!”

“I raised you from a fucking baby. I’m your older brother; your guardian. It’s not okay for things like _last night_ to happen between us.” You don’t want to talk about this, but he isn’t going to let you drop it until you’ve made it clear it’s not up for debate. He clenches his jaw, his eyes are on fire and you just want to smack him. He’s being so obstinate and you don’t even really understand why. Never until this point had he shown any interest in you, the way you did him. What happened last night was a product of your stupidity and his teenage hormones. Nothing more.

“It’s  _not okay_ for me to have these _‘feelings’_ for you.” And you can’t believe that just fell out of your mouth.  _Fuck._ That is  _not_ what you wanted to say.

His face twists into confusion and his eyes meet yours. “So you  _do_  have feelings for me?”

No. Fuck, no. This isn’t how it’s supposed to go. You’re flash stepping towards the door before you even realize you’re doing it. As you reach the apartment door you feel yourself being wrenched back. When the fuck did he get good at flash stepping? You wheel yourself around, catch your bearings despite your hangover.

“This can’t happen, end of discussion. Drop it, Dave.” You glare down at him and you watch as he steps up to return it full force.

You can hardly believe this is Dave; the same kid who would abscond right off the fucking roof when you were mad at him.

“I really do get why you’re freaking out, okay? I know we’re probably fucked up to feel this way, but that doesn’t change the fact that we do.” He  _does_ feel the same way. But when did that happen? Is it your fault? You want to tell him no, but he doesn’t let you. He closes the distance between you two and you’re hesitant as if you should flash step away or if you should just let him come closer. You’re torn between what is right and what isn’t; what you  _want_ and what you  _shouldn’t have._  His hands reach out to your waist and you reach to push them away. His fingers grip down to the bone and you let him hold on. You don’t want to hear it, but you let him.

“Bro, I don’t want things to go back to the way they were.”

 _Fuck._ His voice is so sad and all you want to do is apologize for being an asshole. But you know it’s wrong; why do you want to just grab him and hold him and never let him go? You just let him stare at you and you don’t know what to do. There is a fine line and you’ve stepped so fucking far over it last night. You could have hid everything from him; it would have been okay. You’re sure that it’s all your fault he feels this way. But when he searches your face you can’t help but wonder if maybe he’d been feeling it all along.

What if he’d been hiding it just as much as you had?

Would that make it even remotely okay to do what you want?

And maybe this shouldn’t be about what you want. Maybe this should be about what you both want. You know what he wants; but it’s hard to decide if this is really the best choice. You  _know_ what the _right_ choice is. But sometimes, maybe, the  _right_ choice isn’t the  _best_ choice.

You feel like you’ve been standing still, staring down at him for an eternity. He’s just watching your face; you wonder what he’s thinking.

You have to make up your mind.

There’s something undeniable in the way you feel him press a little closer, hands gripping tighter.

And fuck. Just like that, you know it. He’s won.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull him into your chest. He wraps his own around your waist and you feel the contented sigh that he breathes into your chest. You bring your face down, nuzzle into his hair.

You don’t stay like that for long and when you pull away, Dave leans up and presses the softest of kisses to your jaw. You lean down, meet him halfway, and you capture those lips that you’ve been dying to kiss for so long. It’s so much more rewarding when you know that he’s okay with it. But you pull away and look down at him.

Your head still hurts and you need a strong cup of coffee and a few Tylenols. Maybe something greasy for breakfast later.

“Make me coffee.” He rolls his eyes and you watch him leave your arms. You watch as he walks away; fuck, that ass is so plush. You flash step to the bathroom; splash some water on your face. When you look in the mirror, all the thoughts about what you’re doing come flooding to you. This is your little brother; you raised the little shit.

Yet, he’s made it so fucking clear that he wants you as more than a brother. You can’t be sure this is an actual feeling he’s had for a while or something that has stemmed off of last night. You wish you knew, but you’ll just have to trust your instincts on this one. You don’t spend long in the bathroom; you don’t feel as guilty when you make your mind up that it will be  _okay._

You sneak into the kitchen behind Dave and press yourself up against his back. You feel him jolt under your arms and you nuzzle your smirking face into his hair. You rest your hands on his chest, letting them run down his stomach. The groan you get from him is so fuckin’ choice.

“Bro, I can’t make coffee with you in my way,” he protests and you drag your nails down the skin of his sides. You draw another noise from his throat and it goes straight to your dick.

“Don’t want it anymore.” You hum into his ear; resist the urge to bite it. He tries to turn towards you, but you enjoy him like this. You pin your body against him, trapping him against the kitchen counter. He looks so fuckin’ good pressed up against it like the; completely helpless beneath your hands. And you can tell that he loves it too.  He looks back at you and you catch his eyes.  _Fuck,_ he’s completely turned on by this and so are you. You’re so fuckin’ horny. You trace your hand back up his side, the other pressing his ass back against your erection. He shivers under your touch as you trail your fingers down his spine. When you reach his lower back, all you can think about is how fucking  _perfect_ an orange tail would be on him. You grab his ass over his jeans, give it a rough squeeze.

“You need a tail,” you tell him as you bend down. You run your tongue along his spine and he shudders beneath you.

“Fuck.” It’s all he has to say; it’s filled with need and arousal and you snatch him up into your arms. He growls at you as you dump him on your bed. You waste no time in joining him, devouring him beneath you.  

 

Ever since you gave him the okay, Dave hasn’t stopped touching you. Whenever you stop moving, he’s putting his hands on you. Fuck if you care. You like the way it feels when he’s exploring your body; his hands tentative and soft against your skin.

He’s constantly stretching and purring and,  _fuck,_ he’s going to drive you up the goddamn wall. He’s too perfect. You want hear him purr and beg for your cock; and fuck he makes you so goddamn hard.

You know he knows this too. He’s always luring you into bed with him; you never put up a fight.

You slept together the first few nights. When Dave decided he wanted to sleep on his own, you had troubles falling asleep for the first time since you were a kid. You were considering checking up on him to see if he was asleep, when you hear the door creak open. Dave crawled into bed beside you and even if you didn’t tell him; you’re glad. You couldn’t help but tease him about it every night, until he got fed up and stormed off. You actually felt a little guilty about it. You decided to go retrieve him from his sulking and when you went to turn the knob to his door, you found it locked. Within five minutes you had the lock picked and you let yourself silently into Dave’s room. You could tell he wasn’t asleep; you still slid in next to him. It was hard for you to fit. You’re too tall and the bed wasn’t wide enough, but Dave folded into you and you were able to curl around him. You listened to the sound of his breathing slow and right before he fell asleep you pressed your lips to his ear. “I can’t sleep without you either,” you whispered to him and felt him press closer.

Since then, Dave’s made  _your_ bed  _his._ He clips in those fuckin’ cat ears and gets right into your bed. Stretches out on it and purrs at you until you finally get out of your chair, already half hard.

He gets you so fuckin’ worked up. You’re going to flip your shit right off the roof at how perpetually horny you are. You don’t want to push him; don’t let him say he’s sorry. You’re perfectly okay with making him squirm beneath you; make him nearly blow his load in his pants. But,  _Jesus,_ you’re about ready to implode. The only time you’re not suffering from blue balls is when you get to take a fuckin’ shower. Once you’re back in your room, Dave immediately complains about how long you were in there and how there would be no hot water. You know what he really wants to say;  _I missed you._

And if you weren’t jacking off to images of him begging for your dick, you  _might_  have missed him too.

 

“Bro,” Dave purrs from the bed. You turn to look at him and he is stretched out across your bed. Your eyes trail down his body, drinking in his flushed skin. You can see that he’s already hard. How the  _fuck_ are you supposed to resist him? You growl and push up from your chair. In a matter of seconds you’re on top of him, his wrists wrapped in your hand. You pull them above his head and watch as he arches his back, pressing his dick to yours. You push down against him, pinning him to the bed with your hips. You give a gentle thrust and his purr breaks into a moan so fuckin’ divine. You roll your hips and he lets out another moan.

“Don’t stop, Bro.”

 _You’re_ the one in control. You lift your hips up a few inches, breaking off contact. You bring your lips down to his ear. “You listen to  _me,_ ” you snarl, biting down on the sensitive skin.

“Hnng,” and it’s almost a whimper from him. You bring your hips back down and thrust against him.

“Purr,” you command and like the good, little pet that he is, he starts purring immediately. You bring your hand up to his hair and run your fingers through the soft strands. You give his cat ears a little scratch, reveling in the fur beneath your fingertips. “Good kitty.”

The two of you spend the next two hours tangled together, until you watch Dave growing less responsive. You can tell he’s tired and when he wraps his hands around your arms and pushes up, you can tell he’s spent. You hold him down by his chest and smirk. “If you can’t keep up, just go to sleep.” He lets out a grumbled noise and you don’t give him the chance to protest. You roll off of him and pull him against your chest. His eyes begin to close and you can tell he’s about to fall asleep. You stroke lazy paths on his skin as you watch his chest rise and fall. Those cat ears are still clipped perfectly into his hair and you can’t resist touching them. So fuckin’ soft. You are thinking about getting him a tail when you think about something else you really want to get him.

“Tomorrow,” you begin and wonder if he can hear you. He doesn’t respond and you grab his chin and tilt his face upwards. He doesn’t open his eyes, but you can tell he isn’t sleeping. You’re quiet for a moment and wonder if you should ask him, or just tell him. Deciding on the former, you give his chin a little squeeze. “Can we go get you a collar?”

You see his eyes open and when your words register, his face flushes. You smirk. That’s a  _yes._

“Yeah, but it has to be the most ironic cat collar in the history of forever, Bro.”

You roll your eyes and tell him to shut up. He wraps his arm around your waist and presses closer to you. You look down, watch his eyes flutter shut and plant a kiss on his temple. He’s asleep in less than five minutes and you gently tug him closer.

 

You wake up way fuckin’ earlier than you’ve ever wanted to be up. When you try to go back to sleep, you can’t. You pull the covers over Dave as you leave the bed. Sitting down at your computer, you check your website, and then head over to your bank account.  _Good._

You do a little research for a while, and when you’re sure of what you want, you place an order with “Master’s Petslave Kennels” for Dave’s tail. It’s a little pricey; it’s custom built. But it’s for a  _very good_ cause and you shell out an additional seventy-five dollars for express order.

It’s still relatively early and Dave’s not moved an inch since you woke up. Maybe you’ll go get some shit from the store.

Once you get home, you check in on Dave. He’s still asleep and you can’t help the smile that breaks through. He’s kicked off the blankets and is curled into your pillow. You leave him alone. You know once he smells bacon he’ll wake right up.

Dave joins you in the kitchen and you set a plate of bacon and a glass of apple juice in front of him. He quirks an eyebrow at you; wastes no time in devouring bacon. “Want some cereal, little bro?”

“Fuck yeah. Did you get the good stuff?”

“Who the fuck do you think I am?”

You pour him a bowl of Cookie Crisp and hand it to him. You watch him eat and you can’t believe how fuckin’ unmannerly he is. You roll your eyes at the way he shovels cereal in his mouth as if he’s never eaten before. When he’s finally done you tell him to go get dressed.

“What for?”

Jesus.

“We’re getting you a collar, dumbshit.”

You watch the blush rise to his cheeks. He turns quickly to his room and you smirk. He takes  _forever_ getting ready and when he finally comes out of his room, you push him out the door. He straggles behind, purposely taking his sweet ass time. You know exactly where you’re going as you pull onto the highway.

When you drive into the parking lot of “Erotix”, you can actually hear Dave choke.

“Bro. You can’t take me into a sex shop.”

“Just watch me, little man.”

When you reach the front door, Dave tries to make a dash for it and you grab the back of his shirt. You glare at him from behind your shades.

“Calm the fuck down, Dave.”

You walk into the store and he follows you; actually collecting himself on the outside. You know he’s freaking out on the inside. You can tell by the way his head snaps forward too quickly when he looks at something. You smirk and head down the aisles. You know where you’re going.

You steer Dave down several aisles before you stop in front of a large display of collars. He stops along side you and when he looks up at you, you stare back down at him. He looks to the display and back at you again.

“Pick one.”

Dave’s cheeks get a little red and he looks away, distracted by someone noticing his presence. You want to grab him and make him focus.

He turns back to the display and takes his time looking them over. When he bends down to grab one, you notice the change in his trajectory. He pulls aside some plain collars and snatches up something you couldn’t see. But you  _heard_ it.

Heat spreads in your body and you watch as he stands up. It’s checkered orange. You’re already sold. He runs his fingers along the fabric, inspecting each element of the design. When he brings it up to his neck, your hand wraps around his. He looks up at you and you take a quick glance around. Can’t be too careful.

You lean down to his ear and whisper “If you put it on here, I’m going to have to take you into the bathroom.”

It comes out in a growl; sounds rough in your ears. His face flushes red as he hands the collar over to you. You take it from him and it feels silky beneath your fingers. It’s absolutely fuckin’ flawless and you can’t wait to put it on him. You head towards the register when you hear Dave’s voice calling to you. His tone is hushed as he catches your attention.

“Hey Bro, didn’t you want one?” He’s pointing at a display of tails and you hardly throw them a glance.

“I already ordered you one,” you tell him, continuing up the counter. It takes less than two seconds for Dave to hightail it the fuck out of the store; his face as red as his hoodie. You smirk as you put the collar down on the counter. The cashier throws you a funny look but you just drum your fingers on the table as he takes a year to ring up your  _one_ item.

You exit the shop and get into your truck. After dropping the bag into Dave’s lap, you reverse out of the parking lot quickly. You’ve never been one to show any sort of extreme enthusiasm, but you can’t help it. Thoughts of Dave in his new collar are swimming around in your head and you need to get him home  _now._

You flash step up the stairs of the apartment complex; wait impatiently on the top floor when Dave takes them one at a time. He appears at the top of the steps and you push him through the open door. You kick it shut behind you and shove Dave up against the wall. His body is hot beneath the hands you snake up his shirt. You catch his lip between your teeth and he gives a little gasp before breaking away from you to breathe. In a swift motion you remove both pairs of shades and begin pushing him towards your bedroom. You can’t wait any longer.

Shirt pulled above his head and discarded on the floor, you plant your hand on his shoulder and push him into a sitting position on the edge of the bed. You take the collar out of the bag and remove the tags. Once you’ve got it ready, you look down at him. His face is flushed, his jaw clenched, and mouth screwed up into a nervous line. Your fingers trail along his throat and reach under his chin; push it up so you can look him in the eyes. They’re hesitant, but you see something  _else_ in them. Something that lets you know it’s okay; he wants this too.

“You’re mine, now.”

You bring the collar up to his throat. He’s staring up at you and you watch as nerves turn into arousal in those red eyes. You tighten it to fit perfectly against his skin. When you go to the bedside table to retrieve his ears, his head turns to follow your movements.  _Fuck, that bell._ You’re quick to clip his ears to his hair. You run the fur under your fingers as you give the bell a little flick. The chime is like music to your ears.

You drag your fingers through his hair and bring them to rest under his chin. You give it a light scratch and wait for him to purr.

He doesn’t.

He wants you to  _make_ him purr. And it’s just what you’ll do. You lock eyes with him as you bring your hand to his throat; shove your fingers behind the fabric of the collar. He’s watching you and you give the collar a rough tug. He jerks forward with it and his groan with sound of the bell shoot right into your dick. You want to fuck him so bad. You want to hear him purr and beg below you, want to hear the bell ring with every thrust; a little reminder that he is  _yours._

“Purr for me, kitty,” you command him and he emits another delicious groan. You want to devour him. He doesn’t purr and you give him another rough tug.  _Fuck._ He hisses and your hand involuntarily tightens around the collar. You fight the urge to yank on it again. Dave looks up at you; locks eyes. He lets out the most realistic hiss you’ve heard come from a person. It’s feral; makes you want to dominate him, break him, train him to be a good pet.

You pull him to his feet with his new collar; the bell rings with every motion. You want to hear it as he sucks your dick; little rings every time he pulls his head back and takes you back into his mouth. You don’t let him catch his balance. You send him sprawling on his back, scrambling to move up on the bed. He lets out another hiss.  _That’s it._ You can’t fuckin’ take it any longer. You descend on him and tangle your fingers in his hair. He snarls at you and you turn his head roughly to the side. Your teeth sink into his skin and he gives a little hiss. You flick the collar with your free hand and he pushes you off him. His fingers twist into the fabric of your shirt as he lifts it above your head. He throws it across the room and you’re back to biting his throat within seconds. He claws at your back, a hiss leaving his mouth as you sink your teeth into his flesh even harder. He pushes his hips up and his dick brushes against yours through your pants. He’s unbelievably hard. And so are you.

You bring your fingers to his mouth and he sucks them in without any commands. You let slip a groan at the feeling of his mouth enveloping your fingers.

You stay like that for a while, fingers deep in his mouth, grinding down so you can rub your hard on against his. After a moment, he bites lightly against your fingers and you withdraw them from his mouth. He lies panting underneath you, his collar giving a small ring with every breath. He looks up at you, opens his mouth to say something, but shuts it. His hand wraps around your wrist and he pushes it down his chest, his stomach, and just when you think he’s about to stop, he pushes it down to his erection.

Does he really want you to do this? Or does he just think that’s what you want to do? You’re unsure of his motives; what  _he_ really wants. You quirk an eyebrow and Dave grinds his dick into your hand. You stare down at him; still unsure.

“Bro, please.” It sounds like a whimper and it snaps your attention to the growing, needy look on his face.

You  _love_ when he begs.

Rubbing him through his jeans, you grin as he begins to purr without you even commanding him. He’s such a perfect, little pet. Your hand slows to a teasing pace and Dave presses himself into your palm. “Impatient, little kitten,” you smirk and hold his hips down.

He looks down at you and begs again, his voice desperate for more contact. “Please.” You can’t deny him; he’s a spoiled kitten.

You give a few quick rubs, something more like what he wants you to do. He tries to buck into your palm, but he can’t break your hold on his hips. You let it build for a second, and then you pull your hand away. “Bro, what are y-.”

With skilled fingers, you flick the button of his jeans open. You hear his bell and search his eyes when he brings them to rest on your face. You wait for a moment, reading his expression. You’re looking for any sign that he doesn’t want to go any further. You find none, he doesn’t object and you pull his pants off his hips.

 _What the fuck?_  Those are the most atrocious, yet cutest boxers you have ever seen on anyone. You raise an eyebrow at him and he screws his mouth up like he wants to say something. You smirk then wrap your fist around his dick, pumping it through the fabric. Almost immediately he begins purring. He tosses his head back and even though the sight of him like that is amazing; you reach your hand up and wrap your fingers in his collar. You yank his head forward and his bell chimes with your motion.

It’s all so fucking wonderful.

“I want you to watch.”

A moan escapes Dave’s lips and he tries to jerk his head back. His collar pulls tighter against his throat and you’re absolutely taken with him. Pale skin flushed pink, hair perfectly messy, and the most  _perfect_ collar. And he’s all  _yours._

You need to see him.

Your hand stops and he lets out a real whimper this time. “Don’t stop, fuck.”

“Calm the fuck down.” It earns you a snarl from him and you smirk at his impatience. You drop your other hand from his collar, already missing the power beneath your fingertips. Dave lets out a little sigh of relief and stretches back out. You run your hand down his chest and stop at his boxers. You give them a small tug and he looks down at you. You wait for what feels like forever before you see him give you the nod of approval. You waste no time in stripping them from him.   
  


His cock springs free from his boxers and you take him in, completely. It’s everything you’ve wanted for a long time. Your eyes wander over his entire body, taking him in part by part. You watch as a bead of precum drips from the slit in his dick. You resist the urge to lap it up; one step at a time. You let yourself look for a moment longer. You bring your eyes up to meet his.

“Fuckin’ prefect.”

You bring your fingers up to wrap around him, but pull back after barely touching him.

“Goddammit, Bro!”

“What? Just gonna take my fuckin’ gloves off, pussy.”

“Leave them on.”

Well, you have no reason to argue with him about that. Your hand wraps back around his dick and you pump him tantalizingly slow. You can see the angry look on his face and you move a little faster. He takes in a breath and his bell chimes. You watch the precum drip as you stroke him. You love the way his face looks absolutely wonderful right now. You catch his eyes and wait for him to realize you want to get his attention. When he opens them fully, you bring your mouth down; press your lips to the head of his penis.

“God, yes, Bro.”

His voice shakes and you know it’s because of  _you._ You have so much power over him; and he just hands himself over to you  _willingly._ You catch his eyes and you stick your tongue out; run it up the underside of his head.

“Ahhh, fuuuck,” he hisses out. Hands reach up to your head and knock your cap off. His fingers knot into your hair and you drag your tongue down his shaft. He lets out a few noises that make your own dick throb. You draw back, tongue his slit.

You run your tongue over his head one more time, before you swallow him in one, swift motion. He tosses his head back.

“SHIT. BRO. FFFUCK!”

You can feel his head in the back of your throat. You  _love_ it. You swirl your tongue up his shaft as you draw your mouth back. You let his dick pop out of your mouth; your eyes lock and you kiss little trails down his shaft. You wrap your hand around the base and rub his head on your lips. He’s letting out the tastiest noises now and you don’t know how much longer you can stand him torturing you.

You swallow Dave down whole. You hand trails down to cup his balls and you give them a light squeeze. Dave lets out another tempting moan. You control the desire to turn him around right now and fuck him senseless. You can still wait.

You’re about to pull your head back, when he thrusts up into your mouth. You’re not sure if it was an accident or on purpose. All you know is that it feels  _so fucking good_ ; it’s not enough. You groan with pleasure and you want Dave to do it again. He looks down at you and when you raise your eyebrow, he realizes exactly what you want.

His fingers twist into your hair and he gives a shallow thrust upwards into your mouth; groans when he shoves himself down your throat. It all feels too fucking perfect. You’re impossibly harder than you’ve even been. If it wouldn’t have completely gone against the “Bro Code”, you would have humped the bed below you.

Your fingers tangle in the sheets as he continues to fuck your face. Dave is just so perfect. You can make him do  _anything._ Despite trying to hold them back, small, pleasurable noises escape your throat and Dave just thrusts harder with each one. Every time he thrusts you can hear the little bell on his collar and it just fits so wonderfully. Dave has all the control he wants; all he needs. But the pieces will _always_ be on your playing field. You have all the  _power._

You tear your eyes away from his hip and look up at his face. When he glances down at you, he calls your name and your jeans are beginning to  _hurt_ with how tight they are.

“Oh, fuck, Bro, I’m going to-“

You’re quick to pull away; bringing your hand to pump him at the same speed. You want to feel him spill all over you face. He makes the most wonderful of noises as he comes. His bell rings in time with his pants.

Despite having cum all over your face, you let him ride out his orgasm; tentatively giving gentle stokes as he comes down.

When he finally looks up, you bring your fingers to your face, wiping cum off. You draw them into your mouth and nearly groan at the flavor. He tastes delectable and you watch him as he stares at you. “You taste so good, little bro.” His face is as red as it can get; you like that you made him that way.

“Jesus,” it’s all he says before collapsing back on the bed.

You look him over, feeling your dick ache to be touched by him. He’s the most perfect thing you’ve ever seen. Pushing yourself to your knees, you tower over Dave. He follows your hand as you drop it to your cock. He snaps his eyes to yours. He gives you a nervous look; but you can see that he wants to. He wants to taste you, too.

“You gonna return the favor?”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uhm. Blow jobs. 
> 
> >>;

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okayyy! Sorry I didn't put this up here earlier, I didn't have time before work.  
> But here it is. Chapter 11. 
> 
> Totally not sure how I feel about it. u w u 
> 
> I hope it's good!
> 
> Here you go!!!
> 
> OH UM ALSO THERE'S THIS [ BEAUTIFUL FANART ](http://boratoki.tumblr.com/post/23382604454/just-gonna-slink-in-and-leave-this-here-then) BY [ BORA ](http://boratoki.tumblr.com/) THAT YOU SHOULD ALL LOOK AT BECAUSE IT'S SO CUTE AND PERFECT. ; u ; 
> 
> Okay! That is all!

“You gonna return the favor?”

Dave watches your hand palm yourself through your jeans. You can’t tell what he’s thinking and you’re beginning to wonder if you’ve pushed him too far. You’re about to tell him it’s okay, he doesn’t have to, when he rises to his knees. His little bell jingles and your mind races to what it would sound like when his head is bobbing on your dick. He places a hand on your chest and pushes against you, lying you down on the bed. He crushes his lips to yours and you run your tongue along his bottom lip. Opening his mouth to take in your tongue, he lets out a small moan at the contact of your fingers running down his sides. His hand trails down your chest, catching your nipples and pinching them between his fingertips. He pulls his mouth away and brings it down to nibble at your throat. You let out a small groan and feel him grinning against your skin. He opens his mouth wider, sinks his teeth in. You shudder and dig your fingers into his hips. He doesn’t spend long at your throat; his mouth begins trailing kisses down your chest, nipping lightly every now and then. You control the urge to arch your back into his mouth.

When he can’t go any father, he runs his tongue along the skin of your hips. He lets out a little purr when you brush your fingers through his hair. Your drop your hand to cup his cheek and tilt his face upwards. You want to make sure he’s okay with this and as you make eye contact, you see the fiery look of determination. He slips your thumb between his lips and nibbles on it. You hum in pleasure as his hand begins to rub you through your jeans. Letting out a small moan, he swirls his tongue around your thumb and takes it deeper into his mouth. His eyes don’t leave yours; you don’t break contact. But it’s hard to look at him when he’s being this much of a tease.

He drops his eyes down to your jeans and you slip your thumb out of his mouth. You rub it along his bottom lip as his fingers fumble with the button on your jeans. You don’t help him out. You know he wants to do it himself. Once the button snaps open, he begins to pull your jeans off. He freezes and looks up at you.

“You’re not wearing boxers.”  
  
“Sure aren’t,” you grunt at him.

He glances back down and you feel the need to remind him that he doesn’t _have_ to do it. But he finishes pulling them off your hips. You kick them off the rest of the way.

Dave stares down at you. He looks like he’s unsure of what to do. Reaching out his hand, he brushes his fingertips against the head. You watch him bring his eyes up to you as he wraps his fingers around your shaft. He doesn’t watch your face for long; his gaze drops back down to what he’s doing. He gives a little squeeze, trying to discern what you like. He pulls his hand up and his fingers graze the head.

“Hmmm, fuck.” You bring your hand to rest on his head and give a little pull at his hair. He seems spurred on by this; his hand quickens a bit. He brings his thumb to the slit and spreads around the precum that’s beaded there. You watch him, unable to tears your eyes away. His face still holds a little twinge of red across his cheeks; his eyes are curious and determined as he runs his hand down and back up your shaft again.

He glances up at you and searches your face for a moment. You try to decode the look he’s giving you but before you can figure it out, he’s leaning over and dragging his tongue along your dick. _Fuck._ Your body melts underneath the warm sensation. You don’t dare look away.

His eyes are intense as he stares up at you, his tongue twirling down your dick. _Shit._ You knew you were right. He does have _perfect_ blow job eyes. He laps at your cock as you give his hair a little tug.

“Purr, kitten.”

He lets out a small groan and closes his mouth. He nuzzles your dick and you hear the little bell chime. He begins to purr against you and, shit, he’s really into it. So are you. His hand wraps around the base of your shaft and he rubs the head of your dick along his lips. You can feel the vibrations and it makes you grip tighter to his hair.

As if knowing exactly what you were thinking he opens his mouth, his purr breaking off. He slips it around your cock and you groan. He tries to take as much in his mouth as he can and you don’t care how far he goes; his mouth just feels so perfect, so tight, and so hot.

You let your head fall back as he pulls his mouth up, dragging his tongue along the bottom of your shaft. His bell rings when he drops his head back down; _shit,_ it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever heard. Not only because he sounds like a little kitten, but also because he’s _your_ kitten. That’s _your_ collar jingling around his neck.

Groaning, you control the urge to push deeper in his mouth as he takes in more of you. You bring your eyes to rest on his face and _fuck,_ he’s still staring right up at you. He pushes a little deeper and you’re not sure how he isn’t gagging. Little fuck probably practiced. He pulls his mouth up all the way and flicks his tongue along your frenulum. He notices the shudder that wracks through your body and draws his tongue along the spot again.

His hand slides down to your balls and gives them a gentle squeeze. Fuck, you love all the ways he’s touching you; copying your acts because they felt good to _him._ He wants you to feel good, wants to be the one to make you feel good and it’s driving you fucking _crazy._

You tug at his hair and he gives you a small snarl. You want to hear his voice; want to hear him say _one thing_ in particular.

“Tell me how much you like my dick.”

His cheeks flush and you smirk. He runs his tongue along your dick before pulling his face away. “I _love_ your dick, Bro.”

“No,” you grunt, when his faces nuzzles against you again. “Call me ‘Master.’”

He closes his eyes, gives a little groan. You feel him shudder against your cock. He places a few kisses along your shaft as he looks back up at you.

“I _love_ your dick, _Master.”_

 _Fuck._ His voice is filled with lust as he says it. He’s going to be the death of you.

You push his face against you and he takes you back into his mouth. His head bobs quicker, his bell ringing in time with each motion. You tangle your fingers in his hair; rub at the fur on those ears. You can feel him against your thigh and shit, he’s hard again. You smirk as you rub your leg up against him. He stops moving, lets out a little gasp.

“You gonna take care of that yourself?”

He stares at you with your dick in his mouth.

“Touch yourself,” you command him.

He lets out another delicious moan as his hand reaches down and wraps around himself. You watch as he gives a few pumps before his mouth starts moving again. It’s one of the best things you’ve ever seen.

He’s moving a lot slower, trying to keep pace with both actions. As much as you want to watch him get off to you, you take pity on him. You pat his head to get his attention. He looks up at you and you nod you head upwards.

“Come here.”

He quirks an eyebrow at you and pulls his mouth away. He begins to rise upwards and you roll your eyes at him. “Turn around.”

His face flushes even brighter, but does as you instruct. You wrap your hands around his hips and drag him forward. He lets out a small whine of protest, until your hand reaches around and finds his dick. “Bend over.”

He’s hesitant, but bends and licks at the head of your dick from the new angle. You bring the hand not pumping his dick and spread his ass. He gasps as he feels you lean forward, your tongue tracing along his hole.

“Bro, what-“

“Master,” you correct him.

Even though you can’t see it, you know he’s rolling his eyes at you. You feel him hesitantly bring his mouth back down. When you run your tongue against him, he shudders and freezes again.

“Don’t stop.”

He groans as you pump him faster, your tongue flicking out every time your fingers brush against the head of his dick. He closes his mouth around you and swallows you down as far as he can.

His bell chimes faster as he picks up his pace. You can tell he’s getting into this; moaning around your cock as you slip your tongue inside him. You have him melting against you and you can feel him getting closer.

“Don’t cum until I tell you,” you grunt at him and he shudders underneath your hands. You know he loves you having this power over him; loves when you command him.

You rub him faster and you know he’s trying hard to hold on. He pulls away and your fingers dig into his plush ass.

“Br-, Master, I,” he groans and his body stiffens.

“No.”

“Nnnghh,” he pants and tries to thrust into your hand. You give his ass a little slap.

“You’re a bad, little kitty.”

He lets out a little “Aah!” at the contact and shivers into your hand.

You work him up again and remove your hand when you feel him tighten around your tongue. He grunts; you resume stroking him after he relaxes again. He shoves you back into his mouth as far as he can take it. He wants you to cum, wants to get you to where he is. You push your tongue farther into him and he lets out the tastiest groan against you.

You feel yourself getting closer; feel the heat pooling inside your body. His mouth works you better than you could have ever imagined and you give his dick a little squeeze. He lets out a whine and you nearly spill into his mouth right then.

You’re surprised he’s held on this long. He’s about ready to explode and he brings his mouth off, begins to rub you with his hand, and turns to look at you. “Fuck, please…”

“Please, what?” you pull away from his ass, look him right in the eyes.

“Please, Master, let me cum.”

You can’t deny him when he’s looking at you like that; when his face his flushed so red, his mouth open and panting, and his little bell is jingling with each breath.

“Finish me off first.”

He groans and turns back to your dick, giving you his all as he lowers his mouth back onto you. You don’t take long; let yourself go. You can’t help the small thrust as you cum, pushing yourself deeper in his mouth. He lets out a little choked noise and when he pulls away he looks absolutely confused. Despite wanting to close your eyes, you watch him as he turns to you.

“Swallow it.”

You can tell he doesn’t want to; but he does as you command. You turn him around; sit him on your stomach.

“That’s fucking disgusting,” he shudders.

“Get used to it. A kitten should love cream.”

He stares down at you, gives a little snarl.

You wrap your hand around his dick and you watch as he tosses his head back. You give him a few more pumps before you reach up and grab his hair. You tug his face down so he’s looking at you.

“You can cum now.”

He groans, lasts a few more pumps, and then he’s coming. He lets out the tastiest little mewl as he spills on your chest and part of you wants to force him to lick it off. You let go of his hair and decide to be nice. Snatching a shirt from the floor, you wipe yourself off and drag him down against your body.

He scooches into you; and _fuck,_ he’s purring.

You wrap your arm around him and pull him against your chest, lazily tracing patterns in his skin.

He looks up at you like he wants to say something, but keeps his mouth shut. You raise your eyebrow at him, but don’t push him for information. You’re sure he’ll tell you when he wants to. Right now, all you want is to fall asleep in the afterglow of orgasm and wake up later to your naked kitten, purring and ready for round two. 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dave's POV from Chapter 11.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOTS OF THINGS TO PUT HERE. OKAY. 
> 
> [ Fanart for Chapter 3 by 0dalesque](http://0dalesque.tumblr.com/post/23709724677/cute-fucking-sweater-little-bro-i-wear-it)   
>  [ Fanart for Chapter 4 by 0dalesque ](http://0dalesque.tumblr.com/post/23738642165/is-that-my-fucking-hoodie-little-bro-his-voice)   
>  [ Fanart of TCoTH Dave by Stride-On-Over ](http://stride-on-over.tumblr.com/post/23556168528/dave-you-promiscuouskitty-meow-what-am-i-doing)   
>  [ Fanart for Chapter 4 by 0dalesque ](http://0dalesque.tumblr.com/post/23738642165/is-that-my-fucking-hoodie-little-bro-his-voice)   
>  [ More fanart for Chapter 4 by 0dalesque ](http://0dalesque.tumblr.com/post/24009290936/his-grip-tightens-and-your-eyes-shoot-open-you)   
>  [ Even MORE fanart for Chapter 4 by 0dalesque ](http://0dalesque.tumblr.com/post/24034737630/slowly-you-bring-his-hand-up-and-guide-it-to-the)
> 
> Alright! That's all the fanart that has been sent to me! Thank you guys a lot, really! You spoil me!
> 
> Okay, so this is the last chapter from Dave's POV. We'll move on after this chapter, promise.
> 
> Okay, here you guys go!!!

Bro’s hand begins rubbing himself through his jeans. You look up at him and catch him staring down at you. It feels like forever while you take in the look he’s giving you. You know what he wants; it honestly scares you a little. You hesitate for a moment, but decide that you _want_ to do this. Scrambling to your knees, you put your hand on Bro’s chest and push him down on the bed. Pressing your lips to his, you slide yourself up his body and enjoy the warmth of his skin against yours. Bro’s tongue runs along your bottom lip and you suppress a shiver. You let out a quiet moan when you open your mouth to allow his tongue to slide in. His mouth is hot against yours and you can taste yourself on his tongue. The thought is more appealing than you think it really _should_ be. His fingers skim down your sides and trace back up. You run your hands down his chest, catching his nipples between your fingertips and giving them a little pinch. You pull your mouth away from his, catch your breath, and bring it down to his throat. You begin to nibble at the skin and Bro lets out a small moan.

You feel like it’s a small victory.

You grin against his skin and you know he feels it. You sink your teeth in harder and his body shivers underneath you. You pull away and begin to trail kisses down his chest; nipping here and there where you please. You stop at his hips, right above the belt line of his jeans. You run your tongue against the skin and he tangles his fingers in your hair. You let out a small purr and nuzzle into his hips.

Bro’s palm brushes against your cheek and cups it. You love the cool leather of his gloves. He tilts your face upward and you catch his eyes; dark and blazing with need. His thumb runs along your bottom lip and you pull it into your mouth. He hums from the teasing pleasure when you swirl your tongue along the fingertip and drag it deeper into your mouth; your hand beginning to rub against his erection over his pants. His eyes stare into yours and you don’t hesitate to stare right back. Something is passed between the two of you and you drop your eyes to his jeans.

You think you’re ready.

You fumble with the button; feeling nervous despite pretending that you aren’t. Bro’s thumb pulls out of your mouth and rubs along your lips as you finally pop open the button. You unzip his jeans slowly, trying to steady the pace of your heart. The zipper makes the loudest noise you think you’ve ever heard.

You pull his jeans down, dragging them across his hips. You catch a peek of his pale pubic hair and look up at him. _Seriously?_

“You aren’t wearing boxers.”

“Sure aren’t,” he grunts and you want to roll your eyes, want to slow down, and more so, want to hurry up. You’re excited and nervous. You glance back down and calm your nerves, steel your resolve, and decide that yes, you _are_ ready.

You pull his jeans the rest of the way down his hips and catch the first glimpse of his “Strider goods.” He kicks them the rest of the way off while you stare.

 _Holy shit._ Were you going to get this big? Fuck. What are you even supposed to do with it? Bro made it all look so fucking easy. 

You bring your hand up; graze your fingers against Bro’s dick. Okay, so you’re touching your brother’s dick. What the fuck now?

You decide to copy what Bro did. That made _you_ feel good; so fucking good.

You bring your gaze up to his eyes and wrap your hand around him. He’s thick beneath your palm and you stroke him a few times before you drop your eyes back down to your hand. There’s something incredibly hot about having Bro’s dick in your hand. You give him a little squeeze, rubbing back up to the head and brushing your thumb along the tip.

“Hmmm, fuck.” Bro’s hands rest on your head, fingers running through the strands and touching your cat ears. His voice sounds pleased and he gives a little tug on your hair. You feel like you’re doing something right so you move your hand a little faster.

You watch the little beads of precum form and you stretch your thumb to swirl it around the head. The slick feeling makes you sort of wonder what it tastes like. Overcome by the urge to know how Bro tastes, you look back up at him and find him watching you intently. You locks eyes, bend down and drag your tongue along the underside of his cock.

 _Fuck,_ you love the way Bro’s dick feels underneath your tongue. You don’t break contact with his eyes. You can tell he loves the way you’re looking up at him, how he’s going to love the way you look with his dick in your mouth. You lap at the underside of his shaft and Bro gives your hair another gentle pull.

“Purr, kitten.”

You _adore_ when he commands you to do something. It gets you hotter than anything. A small groan bubbles in your throat as you shut your mouth and nuzzle his dick against your face. You’re caught by the sound of your little bell and you begin to purr at the noise alone. You wrap your hand around the base of his shaft and guide the head of his dick to rub against your lips as you purr. Bro’s fingers tug at your hair and you know he wants his dick in your mouth right now.

You oblige him; open your mouth and slip his cock in. If fills your mouth and you try to take him in as far as you can. You feel like it’s not much, but Bro’s head slips back as he groans and you wipe any uncertainty from your mind. Your collar jingles as your bring your head up and drop it back down. You love the way it sounds in your ears and you repeat the motion, reveling in the noise. It’s like a constant, little reminder that you are _his._

You take him farther into your mouth; try to concentrate on breathing through your nose to stop from gagging. You’re able to get a lot of him in, but can’t go as far as he can. You consider asking him later to teach you; the thought alone embarrasses and turns you on. You feel yourself beginning to get hard at simply sucking your brother off. _Shit._  

You bring your tongue and flick it along where the head meets the shaft. You liked it there a lot and the shudder you draw from your brother shows you that he does too. You don’t hesitate to cup his balls in your hand, give them a gentle squeeze. He tugs at your hair as you swallow him down again. He pulls your head away and you snarl.

“Tell me how much you like my dick.”

Heat spreads across your skin as you feel yourself blush. Shit. That is so fucking embarrassing. Why are you so _turned on?_ You wet your lips and, run your tongue along his shaft and bring your mouth away.

You look up at him, hold his gaze. “I _love_ your dick, Bro.” It’s a million times more embarrassing than you thought, but you’re able to keep the embarrassment out of your voice and you feel sort of proud.

You nuzzle back against him, thinking this is the end of it, but his voice quickly gains your attention again. “No,” he grunts. “Call me Master.”

Oh, _fuck._ It sounds so hot coming out of his mouth and you’re overcome by the urge to hear it coming out of _yours._ Your eyes slip shut and your body shudders at the thought. A groan escapes your lips and you place a few small kisses on his shaft before looking back into Bro’s eyes.

“I _love_ your dick, _Master.”_

Bro’s hand gives a little pull at your hair before he pushes your face into his cock. Another groan slips out of your throat as you slide your mouth back around his dick.

You’re so hard now and you can’t help but press yourself against Bro’s thigh as you bob around his dick. The fact that your collar keeps chiming with every single motion doesn’t help the shot of pleasure that just runs straight to your erection.

You were hoping Bro wouldn’t notice but his leg presses up and startles you. He begins rubbing against your erection and you let out a little gasp.

“You gonna take care of that yourself?”

He’s not seriously asking you to jerk yourself off in front of him, is he? You stare up at him; ignore that he’s still in your mouth.

“Touch yourself.”

It’s not a question or a suggestion. This isn’t a debate. He’s _commanding_ you and you immediately bring your hand down to wrap around your hard on. You give it a few strokes before beginning to suck him off again.

It’s not really easy to keep the paces right and you feel slightly self-conscious that Bro would probably be able to do it the right way. You try to push it down; you know Bro doesn’t think you’re doing anything “wrong.” You know he loves watching you learn all this, but even more so, loves being the one to teach you how to do it.

Bro breaks your concentration by patting your head. You glance up at him and he nods his head upwards, tells you to come here. You raise your eyebrow but remove your mouth and slide up him. He rolls his eyes and you feel confused. You’re doing what he asked.

“Turn around.”

Oh. Your face flushes even deeper as you do what he tells you. You straddle his hips, a little unnerved that you can’t watch his face and gauge his reactions. You start to lean forward when you feel Bro’s hands close over your waist and drag you backwards up his chest. Okay, what are you supposed to do now? A hand reaches around and grabs your erection, giving it a few strokes. You groan a little and try not to lose yourself in the touch.

“Bend over.”

He doesn’t really want you too, right? Well, of course he fucking does. He’s Bro. You hesitate for a second, but tell yourself it’s okay; you trust him. Slowly, you lean down, lick the head of his cock and kind of like the new angle that you’re in. Opening your mouth to take Bro in, you stop when you feel his hand spread your ass. You feel Bro lean forward, wonder what he’s going to do. You gasp when you feel his tongue trace along your asshole. _Holy, shit._ What the fuck is he doing?

“Bro, what-“

“Master,” he cuts you off and corrects you.

You roll your eyes and feel him bring his mouth back down to your ass as you bring your mouth down to his dick. His tongue runs along your hole again and you can’t stop the shudder that wracks through your body. It’s so fucking weird, but it feels so good at the same time.

“Don’t stop,” he commands you and you pump him in your hand, lifting your mouth to let your tongue graze the head.

He lets his tongue slide into you and you groan. You can hardly think with him working your dick with one hand and eating your ass at the same time. You feel yourself getting closer to release when Bro pulls away.

“Don’t cum until I tell you.”

You’re torn between wanting to get off and wanting to please him; follow his order. But he keeps working you closer and you don’t know if you can hold on much longer.

“Br- Master, I,” you start but he pulls away.

“No.”

You let out a needy noise, try to thrust into his hand. He gives your ass a rough slap and you whimper at how _good_ the pain feels. He hums against you, his fingers digging into your skin. “You’re a bad, little kitty.”

You can’t believe how much this is working you up. It feels so good and you’ve never wanted release so bad in your life. It’s worse that he keeps building you up so close, before pulling away without letting you cum. You swallow him, knowing you’re not going to get off if he doesn’t.

You move your head quickly; taking him in as far as you can with each nod. You try to concentrate on him and it works for a little bit; but he gives your dick a little squeeze and you whine with need. You pull off of him, pumping him at the same speed with your hand.

“Fuck, please…”

“Please, what?” He looks you right in the eye; he’ll never let you take the easy way out.

“Please, Master, let me cum,” you plead, feeling humiliated that he’s making you beg. You pant a little, your bell giving small chimes with each breath. You know you look as needy as you feel and something within Bro must feel like being nice today.

“Finish me off first.”

You groan, wanting to get off _now._ No less, you return your mouth to his cock. He doesn’t make you wait very long. He thrusts up into your mouth when he cums, gagging you a little. You can feel him spilling into your mouth, can’t deny it’s pretty hot. You breathe through your nose as you wait for him to finish. It feels like forever, but Bro’s grip finally lets up and you pull away from him with a mouth full of his cum.

“Swallow it.”

You don’t really want to. You loved the way it felt hitting the back of your throat, but it tastes so fucking bad. But you want to make him happy, so you swallow it and do your best not to make a face. He turns you towards him, pulls you onto his stomach.

“That’s fucking disgusting.”

“Get used to it. A kitten should love cream.”

You snarl at him. If he thinks this means you’re going to let him jizz on your face or lick it off of him, than he needs to rethink his action plan.

But all things leave your head as his hand wraps around you and your body floods with warmth. Your head drops back and your eyes shut. The feeling of his hand works your closer to the edge, and he grabs your hair to pull your head forward. Opening your eyes, you watch what he’s doing. You’re about to cum when you realize he hasn’t told you that you could. You don’t want to know what he would do if you did; you also kind of want to know.

His voice is the best thing you’ve ever head, granting you permission for what might be something you want more than anything in your life.

“You can cum now.”

He gives a few more tentative strokes and you’re gone. You can barely hear the mewl that leaves your throat but you know Bro can. Your eyes snap shut as you spill on Bro’s chest. It’s the best orgasm you have ever had; drains you of everything. The only thing holding you up is the fact that you don’t want to collapse in your own cum. Bro is quick to wipe it off and you feel him pull you down. You feel spent, tired, but also _good._

You begin to purr out of habit and Bro’s fingers trace against your skin. You look up at him, a few questions swirl in your hazy mind. You drop your head back to his chest; it can wait until after you’ve slept. As you begin to fall asleep, you vaguely feel Bro reach for your collar to unclip it from around your neck. Your hand shoots up quicker than you thought it could.

“I want you to leave it on,” you mumble into his chest. You can hear the low rumble of Bro’s laugh against your ear and you nuzzle his chest before getting comfortable again. The last thing you feel is his hand stroking your hair before you fall into a deep sleep you feel is well deserved.

 

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dave's friends get mean. :c

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY. WOW. CAN I JUST APOLOGIZE FOR HOW LONG IT HAS BEEN SINCE I UPDATED???
> 
> I really do feel kind of guilty about it. ; u ;  
> But here is this chapter, and it's got some plot in it and I'm pretty sure I know where I'm going to go with this fic. So the remaining chapters should be a lot easier to write.
> 
> I've never written for Rose in my life. So, gosh, I'm really sorry if it doesn't sound right? I'm also bad at conflict, but there's a reason the conflict ended the way it did and I hope you don't think it's because I was being flakey and didn't want to write anymore conflict. u w u; 
> 
> ALSO. Fanart! 
> 
> [ Fanart by Emi for chapter four! ](http://hystericsniper.tumblr.com/post/24830525158/you-may-have-never-seen-it-in-real-life-but)  
> [ Fanart by uglyduckling Bella! ](http://uglyduckbella.tumblr.com/post/23801816224/i-maded-fanart-for-this-lovely-fic)  
> Go check them out! 
> 
> OKAY. HERE'S CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

Disorientation hits you when you wake up; but everything comes flooding back when you hear the bell of your collar jingle as you sit up. Bro stirs beneath your hand and you try not to wake him up, but every single movement causes the bell to chime against your throat. Just looking at the clock causes enough noise for Bro to wake up. It’s a little after midnight and you’re starving and need to pee so badly. Bro sits up and runs a hand through your unruly hair. It’s all he does before he scoots out of bed to stand up and stretch. You take the opportunity to get out before he catches you for round two. You pull on a pair of jeans, not bothering to zip or button them.  
  
After a long piss, you head into the kitchen. Bro is waiting for you with a bowl of cereal in his hand. You accept it with a nod of thanks and pour milk into it immediately. Your stomach growls as if you’re not moving fast enough. You’re inclined to agree with it. Shoveling cereal into your mouth at the speed of light, you barely catch the grimace on Bro’s face.  
  
  
You know he thinks you eat like a pig. You also know you don’t give two shits.  
  
When you’ve wolfed down two bowls of food, you push away your empty bowl and look up at your brother. He’s staring at you and you wonder what he’s looking for; what he sees. It makes you feel a little nervous and your hand reaches up to fidget with your collar. Bro watches your hand and his reaches out to pull yours down.  
  
It’s a small gesture, might mean nothing at all. But his hand lingers and it’s warm against your skin. It sends a heat wave of tingles through your arm and straight into your stomach. For a second you think you might hurl up the food you just ate, but you find the sensation pleasant after it settles.  
  
He doesn’t say anything, just scoops you up quickly and carries you into his bedroom. Dumping you on the bed, he’s quick to join you. You’re not sure where things are going to lead, but he answers you silently when he slides in and wraps an arm around you. You feel him beginning to breathe deeply with sleep; how does he do that?  
You’re not sure if you want to be disappointed, or thrilled that there isn’t a round two. You’re a little tired, you’ll admit. It also feels nice to have a small assurance that Bro doesn’t want you just for sexual things. You hadn’t even known you felt a little insecure about that. He presses in closer to you. It makes you crack a small smile, nuzzle into his chest and wait for sleep to claim you again. 

  


Morning wakes you up with sun rays in your eyes and you groan and try to take shelter beneath Bro’s arm. He rolls over and wraps his arm around you. You breathe him in and you feel almost comfortable enough to go to sleep. As you begin to wake up, however, you grow hot and feel the need to get out of the sun streaming through Bro’s windows. You’re torn between just getting up to shut the curtains or to actually get up for the day. Either way you’ve got to get up.  
  
Bro pulls you back down the first time you try. As far as you can tell, he’s still asleep. He’s not opening his eyes and his movements are slow and lazy. Not at all deliberate like when he’s awake. The second time you make it up to the edge of the bed before he snatches you back into his arms. You groan and shake him.  
  
His eyes open and squint against the light.  
  
“Stop fuckin’ around little man, I’m tired,” he drawls and you roll your eyes.  
  
“Let me shut the shades, Bro.”  
  
He grunts and lets you go, finally. You’re quick to draw the curtains and climb back into bed with him. When you press into him, you’re greeted with his morning wood.  
  
“Seriously?”  
  
“Not my fault,” he mumbles before grinding it into your ass.  
  
You let out a small groan, try to control yourself.  
  
Bro wakes up quickly to the noise and you find yourself being pulled on top of him before you even fully grasp the situation. Bro’s hands trap you in place; you ready yourself for round two.

  


You stumble out of the bedroom around noon. You’re exhausted from the _activities_ Bro put you through. He grins at you as he ruffles your hair and exits the apartment. You’re unsure of where he’s going and he gives a small shrug before fessing up to just going to the grocery store.  
  
Twice in one week?  
  
Shit’s getting domestic.  
  
You find yourself with some free time on your hands and you decide it’s time to catch up with your buddies you’ve been poorly neglecting over the last few weeks.  
  
Harley first. You have to thank her for what she unwittingly started. Well, without telling her what she started, anyway.

  


\-- turntechGodhead  [TG]  began pestering gardenGnostic [GG]  \--  
TG: sup harley  
GG: oh wow dave strider is gracing me with his presence!   
TG: without sounding like rose and using big words  
TG: but isnt this kind of familiar   
GG: indeed it is dave  
GG: i cant believe my eyes!  
GG: i believe thats what i said last time  
GG: three weeks ago!!!!   
TG: woah harley i apologize  
TG: didnt know i was keeping you waiting or anything  
TG: sorry about that  
GG: oh wow! an actual apology!   
TG: i am actually sorry jade  
TG: and i also wanted to thank you for the ears  
TG: theyre really nice  
GG: youre welcome  
GG: but i have things i have to do  
GG: talk to you whenever

\-- gardenGnostic  [GG]  ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG]  \--

 

Okay, so that didn’t go as well as you really thought it was going to. Maybe you caught her at a bad time. You click your best bro’s chumhandle.

 

\-- turntechGodhead  [TG]  began pestering ghostyTrickster  [GT] \--  
TG: sup john  
GT: oh hey dave!  
GT: finally coming back to talk to your friends?  
GT: that’s real nice of you!   
TG: damn  
TG: what is it with you guys today?   
GT: with us today?  
GT: wow, really?   
TG: yeah really asshole  
GT: you really don’t have any idea why we’re mad?  
GT: yeah, okay.  
GT: you enjoy that ignorance for a while, man.   
TG: get rose to teach you some fuckin big words?   
GT: whatever, dude.   
\-- ghostyTrickster [GT]  ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG]  \--

Shit, okay. You know you haven’t been on much. But it isn’t like you’ve been completely ignoring them. Plus, it’s summer. Don’t they have some kind of fun family shit planned? Well, you do feel kind of bad for Jade. She has no body. But didn’t they talk to each other? It isn’t like they needed you there every fucking hour of every day to keep them entertained. That wasn’t your fucking job.  
  
Before you have the chance to close out of Pesterchum, a window pops up. It was one you were hoping to avoid ever since the middle of your conversation with John.

\-- tentacleTherapist [TT]  began pestering turntechGodhead  [TG]  \--  
TT: Why don’t we just skip the pleasantries and get right down to it, Dave.  
TT: Where have you been for the past three weeks?  
TT: What has possibly kept you away for so long that you couldn’t be bothered to drop in and give us a simple explanation?   
TG: shit lalonde thanks for the third fucking degree  
TG: ive been on the corner of none of your fucking business road and stay out of it street  
TT: I see you have maintained your sharp tongue and quick witticism over the past three weeks.  
TT: Could it possibly be summer school?   
TG: no  
TG: seriously rose stay the fuck out of it   
TT: I’m inclined to do no such thing, Dave.  
TT: When you’ve made us all this worried, I believe it does, in fact, become not just my, but all of our business.   
TG: you guys seriously dont need to worry  
TG: ive just been busy with bro and shit  
TT: What kind of busy? It seems to me that you are lacking the usual complaint that follows when you discuss “Bro.”   
TG: the same shit we always do   
TT: Do I detect a hint of a lie hidden beneath nonchalance?   
TG: stop fucking psychoanalyzing me  
TT: I do not need to psychoanalyze you to catch this, Dave.  
TT: Let’s just say I have, sort a “penchant” for knowing these things.   
TG: drop it rose  
TT: Not until you give me a satisfactory explanation for why you’ve dropped all of us in lieu for someone you used to complain about day in and day out.   
TG: i cant  
TT: I see. I understand now.   
TG: shit

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering tentacleTherapist [TT]  \--  
You power off your computer the manual way. You don’t have time to wait for it to all close out.  
Rose knows your “secret.”  
  
Not that you believe she would ever exploit it or share it. It still makes you panic no less that someone found out over the _internet_. Albeit, this is Rose. Not just someone. No less, you wonder what it will be like when you go back to school.  
  
Will teachers be able to tell the minute you walk in the door?  
  
 _That kid is being sexually abused by his incestuous older brother!_

You shake your head and try to clear your thoughts. The door slams shut and you don’t want to move. You don’t want to clue Bro in on your bad mood. But he doesn’t give you the opportunity to hide out in your bedroom. He’s already at your door, looking in at you.  
  
“What’s up, little bro?”  
  
You hear it in his voice. He knows you’re upset. You even had your poker face ready. Well, fuck that plan. Damn Bro, and his ability to read you no matter what.  
  
You debate for a moment whether or not to clue him in on the cause of your frustration. You know you’re not going to tell him about Rose. When he clears his throat, you decide he genuinely wants to know and you tell him about your friends.  
  
He doesn’t interrupt you and when you’re finished talking, he’s got this look on his face. You can’t figure out what it means at first, but it suddenly hits you and you bolt up from your chair.  
  
“Bro it’s not your fault.”  
  
He just gives a small shrug and leans against your door frame. You can tell he’s feeling guilty and you feel guilty for making him feel this way. It’s your fault you’ve been ignoring them. It wasn’t as if you planned on really ignoring them. You’ve just been so wrapped up in Bro. And Bro thinks it’s all his fault.  
  
You know he already feels guilty enough as it is. You can tell when his shades are off and he thinks you’re not paying attention.  
  
He pushes off the door frame and turns around. He’s taken only two steps when you snatching him by the back of his shirt.  
  
“You can’t take the blame for this, Bro,” you try to reason with him; try to put authority in your voice.  
  
He only glances down at you over his shoulder before he’s flash stepping away from you. When you go after him, you find his door locked.  
  
“BRO,” you shout through the door, pounding your fist into it.  
  
He doesn’t answer.  
  
“Bro, I’m going to break the fucking door down if you don’t open it, now,” you warn.  
  
He still won’t answer you or open the door. He thinks you’re fucking kidding. You give him a few more warnings, but he makes no move to let you in.  
  
You back up down the hall. This will probably hurt a little, but you’re not about to let him wallow in his own guilty feelings all fucking night. You charge towards the door and throw your foot into it as hard as you can. With a crack, the door snaps off the hinges. There’s a break through the middle. You stare at it and realize you probably didn’t have to hit it that hard. Cheap ass apartment…  
  
Bro is in his chair; he’s glaring at you through his shades. You can tell.  
  
“Bro, you need to stop.”  
  
He’s silent.  
  
“You can’t feel guilty about my friends being mad or any of _this_.” You gesture to him and then yourself. “You can’t take blame for something you didn’t even do, or something we _both_ wanted and chose to do.”  
  
He’s silent for a moment, as if debating in his head between what he wants to believe and what you know he doesn’t want to believe. But it’s true. If you didn’t want Bro like you did, he can bet his ass that you wouldn’t let him do anything you didn’t want him to. He seems to make up his mind; you watch as his body loses some of the stiffness. Now he’s just mad.  
  
He stands up from his chair and you admit you’re a little intimidated by him. He always seems so much taller when he’s angry. He takes a step towards you and you force yourself not to take one back.  
  
“You broke my door.”  
  
You look up at him as he takes off his shades. His eyes are on fire and you try not to feel so nervous.  
  
“That was very naughty.”  
  
Naughty? Not exactly what you were expecting him to say. Before you can say anything back to him about why you broke his door, his hand shoots out and his fingers tangle in your collar.  
  
“You know what happens to naughty, little kittens?” His voice is low and throaty. It sends shivers down your spine and goose bumps prickle along your skin. He tugs roughly on your collar, throws you onto the bed with it. You do your best to catch yourself with your hands and he’s on top of you in a second.  
  
Bro pulls your head back and the collar digs into your throat. The chimes of the bell never grow old to you; never stop turning you on. It’s kind of hard to breath, and you nearly choke when his tongue runs along the outside of your ear. His knee pushes between your thighs and spreads your legs.  
  
You love the way he’s making you feel right now; wonder what he’s going to do.  
  
“I’m going to have to punish you,” he nips at your ear, his nails rake down your back, and you arch at the pain and pleasure.  
  
You can’t believe how bad you want this; how badly he’s making you want this.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! I don't have a lot of time, so I can't respond to comments and link to all the new fanart individually.  
> But here, have the link that links to ALL the fanart made for TCoTH. 
> 
>  
> 
> [ Don't have much time to say anything! I've got to get back to work. But yes, I had a lot of fun writing this chapter and I just... here have some more of my kinks... <3](http://tricky-dingo.tumblr.com/tagged/TCoTHFanart)

Heat spreads through your body as Bro’s tongue trails from your ear, and down the back of your neck. You can feel him take your collar between his teeth, dropping it not long after. His mouth continues to roam and takes a nip at your shoulders. Part of you really wants to know how _this_ is punishment. The other part of you knows this isn’t what he’s referring to. He’s just building you up.

You shudder when you feel his hand slip from your collar and slide down your chest. His other hand grips your hip, squeezing until it nearly hurts. Fingers toy at your nipples and your body gives another little shiver. You bite back the groan that is trying to spill from your mouth. You can tell Bro is displeased by this; his fingers pinch a little too roughly.

You take in a sharp breath.

His fingers leave your nipples; move to unbutton your pants. You try to figure out what he’s planning, but soon his hands leave your body and he’s no longer pressing into your back. You wonder if you should move; are _allowed_ to move. You watch as Bro takes a few steps towards the bedside table. He removes his cap and you watch as his hand moves to remove his gloves.

Why is he removing them?

He discards the articles lovingly on the table; you think you can see him giving them a little pat before he turns back to you. He sits down on the edge of the bed a few inches from you. He jerks his head upwards a little; nods you over.

“Come here, Dave.”

His voice is harsh and sends a shiver of panic down your spine. You know he used your name on purpose; know he knows you’re nervous now. Slowly, you pull yourself up and walk the few steps to him. You stand in front of him, holding your hands still, despite wanting to touch him, touch yourself, anything to keep them from betraying how nervous and _excited_ you are.

Bro’s hand reaches up and cups your cheek. You nearly flinch at the sensation. His hands are hot and feel so different from what you’re used to. Despite the fact that you enjoy the feel of the rough leather running along your skin, you can’t deny how much more _intimate_ this is; how much more you want to feel his hands on you now, than you ever have before. He runs his thumbs over your lips for a second and his eyes grow dark.

“You’ve been a bad kitten.”

You don’t think you can keep your voice from cracking, so you just nod.

Bro gives you a little smirk, before patting his knee. You look him in the eyes, still trying to figure out what he’s planning, before closing the last few inches between you and him. You slide onto his lap and straddle him. His hands remain to himself and he quirks an eyebrow.

“No.”

You lift your own questioning eyebrow when he pushes you off of his lap. He pats his knee one more time and you begin to connect the dots. Heat rushes to your face; you desperately try to fight back the blush that spreads across your cheeks.

Silent, you slowly lower yourself over Bro’s knee. You can’t believe what’s happening; you can’t believe that you _want_ it to happen.

You feel his hands toy with a belt loop on your jeans. Fingers ghost across the small of your back and trace across your tail bone. Bro hooks a finger beneath the band of your jeans and lowers them. There’s nothing underneath and you silently curse yourself for not wearing boxers. At least there’d be something else for him to pull down.

You want this _so bad,_ but you’re so nervous. You feel more exposed than you ever have with Bro in the past few weeks.

His hand rubs in small circles on your ass. A small hum of appreciation leaves his lips; almost makes you feel a little less nervous.

You can hear him raise his arm. Before you have time to brace yourself fully, his hand lands sharply against your bare ass. The loud smack fills the room, along with your hissed intake of your breath. His hand rubs another few small circles before he draws it back again.

You thought last time hurt, but it is nothing in comparison to when he brings his hand back down. You choke back the cry that tries to leave your throat. Fingers dig into his jeans to keep you focused on not letting out any noise. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction.

You know this spurs him on.

You’re able to keep yourself quite, with the exception of a few hisses from between clenched teeth. Each slap hurts more and more; you can feel Bro’s erection pressing into your stomach. Your own is pressed into his thigh. 

Bro lets out small noise of appreciation and admires his work. You feel his fingers tracing over your skin and you think it might be over. You don’t dare look up. After a few seconds, he lands another sharp strike on your ass.

You can’t help the groan that leaves your throat.

“You’ve got a pretty, little, red ass, kitten,” Bro hums down at you and you wince when he gives it a small slap. It’s going to be so sore.

You let out another groan when he spanks you again. You feel his other hand run along your chest and play with the bell on your collar. His fingers linger there for a moment before they reach your lips and push against them. You take them in greedily, sucking at them as he drives them deeper into your mouth.

He spanks you again, harder than any of the other times. You don’t bother stopping the groan that bubbles from your throat, but you do try to stop the whimper that follows. It manages to slip around his fingers and you hear him chuckle. His fingers rub against your tongue and you moan around them; your ass screams when he gives it a small slap.

He removes his fingers and you let out a small noise of protest. Bro gives you one last, small spank and you whimper again. You feel absolutely humiliated by the noises you are making; Bro loves them.

He stands you on your feet and you feel sore and horny. He wraps his hands around your waist and drags you closer.

“Did you learn your lesson, kitten?”

You don’t want to say anything; you know your voice sounds weak. But you don’t want to end up back on your brother’s knee so you give a small nod, “Yes, Master.”

A grin spreads across his lips. You can tell he’s pleased that he didn’t have to remind you to call him Master. He drags you a few more inches, placing small kisses along your hip bone. Your eyes flutter and you control the urge to thrust into his face when he gets closer to where you wanthim to touch.

You feel him hook his fingers into the belt loops of your jeans and tug them the rest of the way off of you. You step out of them quickly and take a step back. Bro stands and discards his shirt and his own pants. He pushes you down on the bed, joining you immediately after. You wince as you try to get comfortable underneath him.

Bro runs his hand through your hair, toying with the ears you’ve forgotten about. He brings your face forward and you don’t expect it when he plants a kiss on your forehead. He trails down your cheeks, until his mouth meets yours. You’re fast to open your lips and take his tongue in replacement of his fingers. His hands trail down your body; you love the feeling of them out of his gloves.

You feel his hand ghost over your erection and it sends shivers through your body. You don’t know how much longer you can wait for release. It already feels like you’re going to explode.

“Bro, I…” you trail off. He looks at you and you think he wants to correct you, but he doesn’t. He places one last kiss to your lips before his mouth starts trailing down your throat. He stops at your collar; his tongue flicks the little bell before his teeth sink into the skin. You reach up and tangle your fingers in Bro’s hair.

His mouth is hot as he makes his way down your chest and to your stomach. His hands are equally as heated, where he has them wrapped around your ribs. His tongue follows along your hip bones and when he inches lower, you feel yourself growing impatient with need. Bro places a kiss on the head of your dick and you fist your hands in Bro’s hair.

But he’s standing up before you know it and you let out the loudest groan of frustration you think you’ve ever made.

Bro quirks an eyebrow at you as he walks to his dresser. “Does my kitten need a little more punishment?”

You shake your head, not knowing what is inside any of those dresser drawers.

“Good boy.”

He turns and rustles through his dresser for a second. You tilt your head to watch him and you notice how choice his ass is. He catches you looking and smirks. He makes his way back over to the bed, a bottle of lube in hand.

Okay, woah. In the past few weeks you’ve not needed lube before. You look up at Bro and he’s already read your thoughts on your face.

“Calm down, little man, I’m not going to take your fair maiden virginity.”

“Shut up!” You grumble at him. Your face flushes and you turn it away from him.

“Not today, at least.”

You turn back to look at him as he takes your dick into his mouth. You groan as he takes you all the way into the back of his throat. You can’t believe how good he is at that. You wrap your fingers in Bro’s hair as he pulls back and takes you back down his throat, swallowing around you.

He takes you into his throat and gives a little suck, before you hear something snap. With his free hand, Bro pushes your knees farther apart. It isn’t long before you feel a cold finger pressing against your entrance.

“Bro, wait,” you tell him, but the way he looks up at you with your dick in his mouth and his eyes on fire, you begin to think that maybe it’s not such a bad idea. He stills his hand, waits for you to tell him yes.

You nod, whisper a quiet “okay”, and feel it push inside of you. It does not feel pleasant at all and you squirm before Bro pulls his mouth off your dick and tells you to relax. That’s kind of hard considering there’s a finger in your ass, but you try to take his advice and it’s a little easier when he starts lapping at your cock.

He moves the finger back out and pushes back inside again. You try to not tense your body. You don’t know if it really feels good, but it doesn’t feel as awkward until Bro pushes a second lubed finger into you.

You hiss through your teeth and Bro takes you back into his throat. He moves his fingers, as if searching for something. You don’t know anything about this, but you know he’s found it when a bolt of pleasure shoots through your body and you can’t help the loud noise that escapes your throat.

“Shit, Bro,” you groan when his fingers press against it again.

Bro pulls off your dick and smirks at you. He trails his mouth up your chest; nips at your throat. He flicks his tongue along your ear, and you grip onto his arms when he presses his fingers inside of you, hitting the spot again.

“You like those fingers in your ass?”

You shiver and dig your own fingers into his skin.

“Yes,” you manage, but when he rubs against it again you can hardly think.

“Just imagine when my dick is inside of you.”

He nips your ear one last time before he pushes you back against the bed and resumes his place between your legs.

As he takes your erection back into his mouth, his moves his fingers inside of you and you nearly cum from the stimulation of both sensations.

You don’t know how long you’ll last; you doubt Bro cares when he’s feeling this smug.

His tongue drags along your head and down your shaft. He pumps his fingers, before finding the spot again and presses into it. He thrusts his fingers in and out, hitting it every time, mouth taking you back into his throat.

“Fuck, Bro, fuck,” you can’t even think when everything feels so hot, feels so _amazing._ It doesn’t take long before you’re losing yourself, fingers fisted tight in Bro’s hair. It’s the best thing you think you’ve felt so far and you can’t stop yourself from falling off the edge when Bro begins to hum around your cock.

You spill into his mouth and his fingers still. You can feel him lightly sucking around your softening dick; collecting everything for him to swallow. You let your head fall back as you pant. You loosen your grip on his arms; let your hands drop to the bed.

He slides up along your body, towering over you.

“We’re not done, kitten,” he nearly purrs and you let out a choked whine.

You don’t think you can move, but you know that would never stop Bro.

 

 


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Delicious shower smut and some other stuff... yeah~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YESSS!!! :’3 I have finished proofreading to the best of my ability, and I really hope everyone likes this chapter! I had a lot of fun writing it and I can promise, next chapter is going to be preeeetty good. ;”3 Some nice stuff happens. Stuff a lot of you have been waiting so patiently for. >:’3 
> 
>  
> 
> Also, let me just say, proofreading is my least favorite step! I just get so anxious wanting to post it, but I know I want to post it with as little errors in it as possible! I want it to be nice for you guys! n w n
> 
> OKAY. WITHOUT MAKING YOU WAIT ANY LONGER.
> 
> HERE YOU GO!!!
> 
> ALSO OH GOSH, THANK YOU ALL FOR OVER 10K VIEWS.  
> HOLY SHEESH.  
> THANK YOU FOR ALL YOUR COMMENTS.  
> AND KUDOS AND BOOKMARKS.  
> OH GOSH, I LOVE YOU ALL!!! <3

Your body protests when you try to sit up on your elbows. “Bro, I’m seriously tired,” you groan. Bro stares down at you, guiding his hand down to his hardened cock. You follow his hand’s motion and bite your lip. What does he want you to do? You can barely sit yourself up, let alone suck him off or whatever it is he’s aiming for. You try once more to prop yourself up and when you let out another tired groan, Bro seems to realize that you’re not trying to get out of giving him head.

He lets a quiet sigh escape his lips. “Lube,” he points to the bedside table as he commands you. You’re hesitant and want to ask what for, but you quickly reach for the lube and snatch it up when your fingertips make contact with the bottle. You keep it clutched in your palm before you reluctantly hand it over to him.

“Lift your legs,” he demands. You slowly raise them and realize they’re slightly shaking. Your face flushes a little as you watch Bro take in this fact and smirk. He doesn’t say anything as he flicks open the cap on the bottle. You intently watch his hands as he tips it over and squeezes it. It feels cold against the inside of your thighs as it drips down your legs and your body gives a little jerk. You feel his hand follow the lube down your skin and the warmth of his palm with the cold sensation of the lube makes you want to squirm. It’s a strange feeling.

Satisfied with his work, Bro trails a finger down the underside of your leg, following your calf and taking your ankle in his hand. He brings your other ankle up, resting your legs on his left shoulder. You feel your body being stretched and it’s really kind of nice. You fight the urge to twist in the opposite direction to crack your back, as Bro positions himself slowly until he seems right where he wants to be.

You can’t help but wonder if this is what it’s going to look like when he finally fucks you. You spend a moment thinking about what it’s really going to be like. Is it going to hurt? Probably, you guess. You wonder how Bro is going to do it; how he’s going to make you feel.

Your face turns bright red as you realize Bro is watching you. He smirks as if he was in on your private thoughts. You glare up at him as you feel his hands glide back down the outside of your thighs. He presses them together before he slides his cock between them.

He’s fucking your legs.

You stare between them as you watch him slide in and out of your lubed thighs. You almost feel embarrassed by what he’s doing, until you glance up and see the way he’s looking down at you.

He wants you.

You feel something settle inside of your stomach. Happiness that he wants you, guilt that you’re making him be so patient, and desire. You want him too.

You can feel his hips meet the back of your thighs as he works himself between your legs. If you weren’t so tired you’re sure you would be turned on at the sight alone; the feeling would be nearly irresistible.

Bro doesn’t last long; you know he could have if he wanted to. He spills on your stomach and you deny the urge to stick your finger in your belly button before it drips inside the small hole. In an act of _courtesy_ , Bro leans down and picks up a pair of your boxers from the floor, dropping them over his cum on your stomach. He collapses on the bed beside you, while you scowl at him and clean yourself off. Your legs feel sticky and tired and you’re pretty desperate for a nap and a shower.

As you drop your boxers back on the floor, Bro leans over and wraps his arm around your waist in a slow and lazy movement. He pulls you in a little bit closer to him and something bubbles in your stomach. You wonder if Bro is really an affectionate person in general, or if it’s just to you? You think you may already know your answer and you’re able to roll over and bury your face in his chest as you listen to him breathe.

You’re quick to follow him into a peaceful sleep. It’s much deserved after the past few hours.

 

When you wake up, the sun is just starting to set and you groan as you push Bro’s arm off you. You hear him make a grunt of protest, but you want a shower _bad._ You shake his shoulder and watch as an orange eye opens slowly. “What?”

“Shower,” you demand. You thought you should give him the opportunity if he wants one too. But if he isn’t out of bed and ready to go in the next two minutes, you’re taking one without him. It seems Bro got your unspoken warning and is pushing himself up by the time you’re grabbing one of his plush towels from his open closet.

“Those are mine, you little shit,” he grumbles.

“Deal with it,” you shoot over your shoulder, beginning to unclip your cat ears. You set them down on the computer desk and reach up to take off your collar. You fumble with it for what feels like forever, before you watch Bro stand and walk up behind you. His fingers dance up your spine, causing you to squirm a little from the way it tickles. You feel his lips meet with your shoulder, warm breath ghosting across your bare skin. Goosebumps prickle up along your entire body as his fingers follow his lips, reaching up to your collar and quickly pull the fabric through the loop. You feel it tighten for a moment before it loosens and he guides it off your neck.

After setting it down next to the ears, Bro brings his hand up to your chin, turning your face and exposing more of your skin on your neck. You feel his lips placing soft kisses across your neck, tongue darting out for a few seconds at a time. You want to ask him what he’s doing, but it dawns on you that he just woke up.

Of course; more affectionate when he wakes up.

As much as you don’t want to stop, you still want your shower. “Come on, Bro. Let’s go,” you tell him, feeling what you suspect is a sigh against the nape of your neck. He straightens up and grabs your towel out of your hand. You shoot him an angry look and pointedly grab another towel from his closet. His straight face doesn’t break, but you think you catch a hint of a smirk as he turns to leave. You follow him down the hallway and into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you. He sets his towel on the sink and you set your own next to his.

Bro starts the water and waits for it to heat up before stepping in. You’re quick to follow him, anxious to feel clean again. And possibly get back to what you were doing in the bedroom. However, the first thing on both your and Bro’s agenda is your hair. He’s first under the water and after he feels he’s sufficiently wet, he lets you rinse off. You both make a grab for the shampoo; he wins out. He smirks down at you as he squirts a rather large amount into his hand. You wait for him to set the bottle down before you pick it up and squeeze the proper amount into your own palms. You’re quick to rub it into your hair, already feeling ten times cleaner. He pulls you out from under the water and you stand as close to him as you can, trying to catch a little bit of the water that doesn’t hit him. Bro takes forever to rinse and you glower at him, while he enjoys the warmth of the shower spray.

“Move over,” you growl when you see that his hair is clean and he’s just hogging the warmth. He reluctantly allows you to take his place and the water has never felt better cascading over your body. You know Bro isn’t really one to be frivolous with money, regardless of the fact that he’s sitting on millions. However, you think if you ask in the right way, _really_ sell it to him, you might be able to convince him to renovate the bathroom so you have a nice two person tub. With jets.

You’re busy basking in the wonderful thought when Bro pulls you out from the spray. He shoves a bottle of body wash in your hands. You stare down at it for a second, then pour some into your hand. You rub your palms together and as you bring them to your chest, Bro catches them before you’re able to spread the body wash all over yourself. “Wha-,” you begin, but he cuts you off before you can finish asking, guiding your hands to his body in a silent reply.

You flush a little as you begin to spread the soap around his chest. You’ll probably need more body wash, as you only got enough for you. As you suspect, you’re only able to lather his chest and part of his arms with what you had. You go back for more and begin working it across his skin. You glance upwards at him, stunned when you find him with his head leaning back, his eyes shut, and what looks like most of a smile on his face. It almost catches you off guard, but you remind yourself that this is a man who really values his showers, so mixing it with this sort of pleasure must be heaven to him.

You smirk a little, rubbing your hands up his arms and back down his chest again. You reach for the bottle and squeeze a little more body wash in your palm, before you reach down and carefully lather his dick, gently rubbing soap against the skin of his balls. You feel his dick responding to your touches, but it doesn’t get more than half hard. You rinse your hands in the spray behind him and tell him to turn around.

After drizzling body wash across his back, you begin to lather it on his skin for him, noticing things about his back you hadn’t noticed before, as you soap him up. You don’t often get a good look at his back and you take in the width of his shoulders, the way his shoulder blades cut, small scars you don’t think you’ve seen before. It’s sort of new to you; kind of interesting. You memorize the way his muscles feel under your palms. You’re absolutely fascinated. As you lather, you notice that every so often, Bro lets out a small hum of appreciation. Noises that break through Bro’s façade never fail to make you feel like you’ve won a prize. In a way you have; you’re sure that you are the only one who can really do that.  

Your hand traces the small of his back, before you rub the soap on his ass. It’s muscular under your touch and you spend a little time there before you grimace and run your hand down his ass crack. Bro jerks and you nearly snort at the way you’ve caught him off guard. Quickly, you rinse your hands off in the spray once more.

Bro turns and rinses himself off before he pulls you against him. Water splashes along your skin and you didn’t realize you felt cold until the heat of the water reminds you. Bro switches places with you and grabs up the bottle of body wash in his own hands. _Fuck yes._

It hadn’t even occurred to you that you would get the same treatment. You were content just to be able to explore his body. Bringing his hands to your chest, you immediately let your eyes flutter as Bro starts to lather the soap against your skin. It feels fucking fantastic. You nearly bite your lip to keep from groaning, but let the noise leave your throat instead. Bro seems to enjoy it, smirking as his fingers gently massage your muscles. _Shit._ It’s a whole different kind of pleasure and you find yourself absolutely lost in it.  

Much to your dismay, Bro’s hands leave your body. He turns you around and spreads body wash all over your back. His hands return to your skin and you revel in the feeling when his fingers work the soap into a lather. The water from the shower head hits you directly in the chest and you feel absolutely warm all over.

Bro doesn’t spend long on your back before his hands again are removed. But when they come back, you are more than delighted, feeling him reach in front of you. He rubs body wash into your thighs, cleaning off any traces of lube and precum. He brings his hands up and gently rubs your balls before his hands start to work expertly on your dick. It takes less than ten seconds for you to pop a boner when he’s touching you like that. You can practically feel the teasing grin you know is plastered on Bro’s face. So what if you don’t have the same kind of self control that he does? You’re a fucking teenager.

His other hand begins to slide down your back, and you jump slightly when you feel him run it between your cheeks. A quiet laugh escapes his lips and you understand the meaning behind it. _Pay back._

You’re sure he’s going to remove his hands any second, now that you’re clean, but his hands stay rooted where they are, rubbing your cock in a slow and tantalizing motion. You let out a little groan, nearly beg him to speed up. Bro presses his chest against your back, pushing you forward slightly. You take it as him wanting you to rinse the soap off and when you step under the water fully, he takes a step back.

Once your skin is free of suds, you feel Bro lean down and sink his teeth into your shoulder. It almost hurts; might hurt if he wasn’t giving you a reach around at the moment. He lets up pressure, runs his tongue along your skin, and pulls back. He plants a small kiss on the bite mark. His hand is still moving too slow for you and you feel the need to drop a subtle hint for him to speed the fuck up.

You turn your head to the side and catch him looking right at you. “Hot water won’t last long,” you remind him with a nonchalant shrug, proud that you kept the impatience out of your voice.

Bro smirks; can see right through you.

His hand nearly stills, as he very slowly drags it up your shaft. You can’t help the needy reaction of bucking into his hand. You can hear him tsk, before he brings his free hand to hold your hips in place. “You need to learn to ask nicely for the things you want,” he hums into your ear.

You scowl at the shower wall, understanding that he wants you to beg. Without looking at him, you open your mouth. Nothing comes out for a moment, but when Bro’s hand completely stops moving, you realize you don’t have a choice unless you want to have blue balls for the rest of the night.

“Fuck,” you mutter before clenching your teeth. No matter how many times he’ll make you beg for something, it’ll always feel just as degrading and humiliating as the first time. Your face flushes as you open your mouth again, letting words tumble off of your tongue.

“I need you to touch me,” you nearly bite your tongue when you almost stutter. “I need you to go faster, please, I,” you close your eyes tight. You quickly open them; turn your head so you can catch his eyes. You will as much emotion into them as possible and make sure he’s looking. “Please, Master?”

You watch his smirk grow, and he removes his hand from your hip. He gives your hair an affectionate pet before he speeds his hand up to the pace you were looking for. You let out a loud groan and when you try to turn towards the shower wall, Bro catches your face with his hand, leaning in to plant his lips on yours.

Your stomach does a flip you wouldn’t want to admit to. Of all the things Bro and you do, kissing often isn’t on the agenda. You’re swift to open your mouth, allowing his tongue to meet yours. His hand speeds up even faster and with the combined stimulation, you don’t think you’ll last more than five minutes.

Bro bites down on your bottom lip and releases it as he kisses down your jaw. You feel his cock poke you in the back when he presses a little closer to you, trailing his tongue down your neck. His hand quickens and his fingers hit all the right spots on your shaft, and soon you’re spilling into his hand and on the shower wall. You pant a little, as you ride out your orgasm. Bro rinses off his hand and you wipe cum off of the shower wall and rinse your own.

When you turn Bro places a hand on your shoulder and you feel your knees buckle when he applies pressure. You don’t fall, but when you regain balance once more, you allow him to push you down to your knees. You bring your hands up to his hips and take him into your mouth. You’ve gotten better at controlling your throat; though you’re still not on Bro’s level. You swallow his cock halfway down, careful not to gag yourself. You pull your head back, grab his cock in your hand and place a small kiss at the tip. Looking up, you make eye contact as you swirl your tongue around the head of his cock.

Bro stares down at you as he tangles his fingers in your hair. You run your tongue along the underside of his shaft as you slowly work your way back down. You feel him give your hair a gentle tug and you take him a little more in before you have to pull back a little. After you feel like you’ve tested both his and your patience enough, you begin to bob your head, setting a swift pace and taking up the slack with your hand.

When you feel his body start to tense, you bring your free hand from his hips to cup his balls, giving them a gentle squeeze before you let out a small moan around him. “You’ve gotten really good at sucking dick,” he hums, when you take him nearly all the way to the back of your throat. You can’t hold it long, but you inwardly congratulate yourself on your achievement. Then realize how gay that is. _Well, damn._ You don’t give a fuck. If it means you get Bro all to yourself, you’ll be as gay as two dudes in banana hammocks, rubbing their pork swords together at a gay club playing Ke$ha, while they try not to spill their Appletinis.

As you move faster, you can feel Bro getting closer. He uncurls his fingers from your hair, flattening his palm against the back of your head. You don’t think much of it, though you find it curious. Usually he likes to pull roughly on your hair when he orgasms. You want to ask, but with a dick in your mouth you know it’s not possible. You get your answer when he begins to cum into your mouth, using his hand to shove your head completely down on his dick. You feel him fill the back of your throat completely, causing you to gag as hot cum begin to spill down your throat. Bro releases you immediately, and you pull back, coughing and spluttering.

“THE FUCK, BRO?” You choke out, wiping your mouth after you spit onto the shower floor.

“Sorry little man, but I needed a little reimbursement,” he grins.

You glower up at him and slap his hand away when he extends it for you to use to stand up. Rolling his eyes, he leans down and grabs you by the waist, picking you back up. He sets you down and steps out of the shower and you reach to turn it off. When you step out, Bro throws your towel on your head and begins drying you like a wet dog.

“Cut it out, man!” you shout from beneath the towel. Bro always makes you lose your cool. You rip the towel from off your head and control the childish desire to pout.

All forms of anger are erased from your mind when you see him looking at you with an endeared expression on his face you haven’t quite seen before. It stops your heart for a millisecond and you quickly wrap your towel around your waist.

“That’s it. Rooftop,” you snarl as you head towards your own room.

You know he won’t back down. You know you’re both going to get sweaty and dirty in the heat, even though you just took a shower. It’s alright; it just means you can take another one together later.

 


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickennsssss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SORRY I'LL CODE THE PESTERLOGS LATER  
> I'M REALLY OUT OF TIMEEEE.  
> > 3

Two things come in the mail on the last day of July. The first you find wedged between a bunch of coupons in your mailbox. It’s addressed to you and you recognize it immediately without even looking at the return address. It’s information on class registration for school. You stalk back up the stairs to you apartment, dreading the idea of school. Once behind the door, you discard the coupons on the kitchen counter and tear open the envelope. Sighing, you read through the dates and the information quickly. You hop up on the counter and hold the pages, quietly contemplating your return to high school life. You’ll be a junior this year. As you sit there, thinking of school work, you’re suddenly reminded of your friends. Or possible lack-thereof. The thought sends a sinking feeling through the pit of your stomach when you remember your last conversation with Rose.

Would you be as transparent to the rest of the world as you are to her? Or is it just Rose’s talent for finding things out behind words and walls? You sigh and set the letter down beside you on the counter. You feel a surge of panic shoot into your gut at the thought of any of you teachers finding out. What would happen? Would Bro be arrested? Would you be placed in a foster home and never be able to see Bro again? You cradle your head in your hands for a moment.

Reality is hitting you like a brick and you feel your mind reeling at the possible consequences of your and Bro’s actions. It isn’t like he’s doing things you don’t  _want._ After all, you were the one who started all of this to begin with. You’re absolutely sure Bro would never do anything to you if he knew you didn’t want it.

You coerced him; recall the moments he’s hesitated and tried to find an out. But you had him on your line and any time he tried to get away you’d reel him back in, afraid of losing the new affection you desperately craved.

And why you crave it; you have no idea. It isn’t  _normal_ for someone to crave this sort of attention from their older brother. You know that it isn’t _normal._ But you don’t think that it’s  _wrong_ by any means. You don’t find what you two are doing to be  _sick_ or anything else other than abnormal. You wonder what Bro thinks. You wonder if he stresses over the possibility that his life could be over if anyone ever found out.

_Of course he’s stressing over it_ , you remind yourself. He’s the one who loses the most if everything is uncovered.

And it would be  _your_  fault. You suppose some blame can partially fall on Bro’s shoulders, but it would still be  _your_ fault. But no matter how much you would protest and fight; he’s the adult. He’s “supposed to know better”.

The second piece of mail comes while you’re brooding over everything. You’re interrupted from your thoughts by the sound of knocking at your front door. You remain on the counter for a moment, confused as if you’re unsure you actually heard it. When the person knocks another time, you slip down from the counter, leaving the kitchen and crossing the living room to the front door. Unlocking the door, you twist the knob and open it, catching the person mid-knock.

It’s a UPS guy and he just stares at you when you open the door. He looks you up and down and you want to ask him what the fuck he’s staring at before he opens his mouth. “Package for Dirk Strider,” the man grunts. You blink from behind your shades and then look down at the medium-sized, brown box tucked beneath the man’s arm. He pushes the signature device towards you and you pick up the stylus. You quickly scribble “Dave Strider” before holding out your hands for the package. The man merely grunts again and hands it over, turning to leave and walking rather fast down the stairs for a man of his size.

You stare at the box for a few minutes and then realize the door is still open. You shut it as the last few notes of the guy’s footsteps sound throughout the complex. You lock both locks as Bro has always taught you before turning to retreat back to the kitchen. You gingerly set the box down onto the counter and resume your place next to it. You examine it for a moment; careful when lifting it onto your lap.

Bro is always getting packages and mail. That’s not new to you at all. However, it isn’t often that he gets things that need to be signed for. Regardless of age, you’ve always held the same amount of curiosity over what Bro is always receiving.

The return mailing label doesn’t give you much information on where it’s from or what it could possibly contain. It isn’t extremely heavy under your hands but not exactly light, either. You feel the childish urge creeping up to shake the box to see if you can rattle the contents into telling you what they are like a Christmas present.

_You could open it,_ a part of you whispers in your head. You glance around and remember that Bro is at work. You don’t know when he’ll be back; maybe you shouldn’t risk it. But, if you are careful you bet you could find packaging tape and re-tape the package and it wouldn’t take more than five minutes.

You carefully set the box back down next to you and spread your legs to open the drawer beneath your calves. Rummaging around blindly for a moment, your fingers collide with the circular and smooth item of what you know is a roll of tape. Pulling it out, you grin mischievously, thinking that must be a sign of luck that you’ve found exactly what you need. A part of your mind tries to reason with you as you pick the box up, just as gently as before.

Bro would beat your ass.

Your fingers grip at the tape of the box for a moment, your heart skipping a few beats in your chest. You’re about to slowly pry the tape off when you hear keys in the door.  _Holy shit_. Your fingers drop from the box, smoothing the tape swiftly before setting it next to you. You shove the tape back in the drawer and shut it as quickly as you can, pleased that it doesn’t make a loud noise. The top lock clicks and you pick up your letter from school.

Bro opens the door and walks in, kicking off his shoes. The scent of pizza fills the room behind him in his wake. You hear his keys clatter in the bowl by the door and the sound of the ironic chain that he connects to his wallet jingle as he pulls change out of his pocket. You wonder how much he’s dumping into the half full 5-galon Culligan Water Bottle. Even though you aren’t in the living room, you know his routine by heart.

You always teased your brother for being like Mr. Rogers. When he comes home from work, he switches his fingerless gloves and hat before he moves on to the kitchen. Two snaps and you know he’s coming your way. You wipe your face clean and stare blankly at the doorway as he enters. He has a look on his face that makes you feel as though he knows what you were about to do.

It dawns on you that he’s off earlier than usual, but you make no mind of it. There were probably no deliveries for him to take.

Bro glances at you sitting on the counter, then at the package by your side. Opening the fridge and holding back the barrage of shitty swords that threaten to fall out; he takes out the carton of milk and takes a long drink from it before replacing it. He shuts the refrigerator door and turns to you. Again he glances from you to the package beside you. Silently, he walks towards you, stopping within a few inches from your face. His fingers glide over your legs. You can smell the scent of his deodorant and body wash beneath the pizza and sweat from this close.

“Didja open it?” he tilts his head, gesturing towards the box.

“No,” you reply immediately, without a trace of guilt or reserve. After all, you  _didn’t_ actually get to open it. His hands remain on your legs, fingertips gliding slowly over your thighs and back down to your knees.

His right hand removes itself from your leg and quickly snatches the papers from your hands, holding them up so he can read them.

Your face reddens and you fight the urge to grab them back. They’re only school papers, but you still feel agitated by it. “So you can look at my mail, but I can’t look at yours?” you growl at him.

“Yup.” It’s all he says as he scans the pages in front of him, removing his left hand only to tuck the first page behind the second, returning it back to its place on your thigh.

“Why?” you ask indignantly.

“I’m your guardian. This shit is addressed to ‘The parents or guardian of Dave Strider’, which technically makes it mine.” You glare at him from behind your shades. “Plus,” he adds with a smirk a moment later as he deposits the letter down beside you on the counter. “ _You are mine._ Which makes this mine, too.”

Your body is torn between feeling turned on and feeling angry with him; torn between  _wanting_  to be  _his possession_ and wanting to tell him you’re _not_  a toy. You decide for an in-the-middle and open your mouth to reply with something snarky, but he cuts you off with lips pressing against the side of your throat. The feeling causes your brain to jumble and you can’t remember what you even wanted to say. A quiet groan escapes your open mouth as he makes his way down your neck, nipping gently here and there. He bites playfully at the collar and you hear the bell jingle. So  _that’s_ why the UPS man was staring at you. You’d forgotten that it was on, feeling as though it was as much a part of you as your fingers were and rarely regarding the sound of the bell as anything abnormal.

Bro’s lips trail back upwards, stopping to plant a kiss against your jaw before pulling away.

“Alright, what’s wrong kiddo?”

Your face feels warm as you try to fight the inevitable flaring of embarrassment. How is he able to read you? You’ve barely said a few words. You keep your mouth shut, say nothing, and give a quick shrug while staring back into his face.

“Is this about school?”

You give another noncommittal shrug. You don’t know whether or not you should confide your worries in him. It isn’t because you think you  _can’t._ You’re worried he’s going to confirm your worries.

“Come on, Dave. Stop actin’ like a princess and tell me.” He hasn’t moved his hands from your thighs and he’s hovering near your face still. Your lips pull into a sneer at his words, but you know he’s expressing his concern in the only way he knows best. Still, you can’t make out any concern on his features or in his tone.

You absentmindedly pop you knuckles as you think about the best way to approach the thoughts that are swimming around in your mind. “Do you…” you start out, choosing to stare at a spot on the wall behind him as you continue “think that anybody at school will be able to tell…” you don’t finish; he doesn’t need you to.

“You’re worried about that shit?” he asks, giving a short laugh you think you can hear a trace amount of fakeness underneath.

“Yeah, I am,” you reply gravely. It’s not something you exactly want to take lightly.

His face changes, ever so slightly, but you catch it. His voice is a little stern this time; almost as though he’s warning, rather than telling. “If you keep your mouth shut tight, no one’s gonna find out a thing. Long as we’re careful,” he gives your thighs a quick squeeze, before pulling away. “Now be a doll and hand me that box,” he smirks, nodding his head in the direction of the package again.

“Fuck you,” you growl, but despite yourself, you grab it and hand it over to him. He takes it and looks down at it lovingly. “What’s in it?” you ask him in what you hope is a nonchalant voice.

He searches your face, quirks an eyebrow at you, and looks back down at the box. “I’ll show ya sometime.”

“Really?” Usually Bro never shows you what he receives in the mail.

“Yeah. It  _is_ for  _you,_ ” he smirks and takes a step backwards, turning towards his bedroom.

“It’s for me?” You swiftly slide off the counter to follow behind him.

“Yup.” He doesn’t offer any more information and you peer around him to see if he’s messing with the tape. You’re more than curious now about what’s in the box and you can feel your patience wearing thin with him. You’d already been overly curious about the contents of the box before he’d even revealed it was  _for_ you.

“So when do I get to see it?”  You ask from behind him, careful to hide all traces of anticipation from your voice. He stops at his door and turns to face you, opening it behind him. You recall the memory of Bro dragging you through three different stores before he decided on a new door for his room. You shove the memory out of your mind and stare up at him, determined to get answers.

“Depends.”

“On what?”

“If you’re a good boy or not,” he smirks.

You feel heat pulse through your body and struggle to keep your dick from popping a boner at his words alone. You watch him enter his room and shut his door behind him, half wanting to follow in behind him. You listen for the faint click of his lock before you walk back down the hall. What could he possibly have gotten for you? You stare at your door, trying not to listen for the sound of tape being ripped open.

As you enter your own bedroom, you click the fan on and sit down in front of your computer. The black screen throws your reflection back at you. You stare at yourself for a moment before you make sure you locked you door behind you.

You bring your fingers up to the arms of your shades, pulling them off to look at them. It reminds you that you haven’t really resolved any of your conflicts with your friends. Red eyes stare at you as you look back up at your sleeping monitor. Even though you know they’re yours; have them memorized, you lean a little closer. You get lost in reflection longer than you intended. You slip your shades back on, shifting in your seat.

You probably should try to talk to your friends soon or it’s just going to get worse. You sigh and turn your monitor on, moving the mouse rapidly and trying not to acknowledge the nerves bundling in your stomach as you think about what you’re about to do. The whole apologizing and admitting you are a shit friend isn’t what bothers you. You’re actually legitimately terrified of not having any friends when you’re done.

And not just  _any_ friends.  _Jade, John, and Rose._

You click on Pesterchum, hoping that no one is on, but all three of your friends are online and your stomach knots tightly. You swallow and realize how dry your mouth has become. You wonder if you should wait to see if they’ll message you first or if you should just man up and get it over with.

You’re about to click on John’s name, when a window pops up. It’s from Rose. Of course it’s from Rose.   
  
  
\-- tentacleTherapist [TT]  began pestering turntechGodhead  [TG]  \--  
TT: Well hello, Dave.  
TT: I’ve been expecting you, today.   
TG: you have???   
TT: Why, yes. You do seem to have an affinity for only coming on every three weeks.    
TG: shit has it been that long

Guilt gnaws at the bundle of nerves in your stomach. You hadn’t realized that much time had passed since you last logged on. You control the need to fidget (cool kids don’t fidget) as you read the words on the screen. You’re unsure of what’s going to happen; really you don’t want to know at this point whether Rose will remain your friend. You ignore the desire to turn off the computer. You  _have_ to deal with this.  
  
TT: Yes, Dave. It has been.   
TT: Now, I sincerely hope you’re not planning to escape this time. We have quite a lot to talk about.   
TG: yeah i know.  
TG: im sorry i left last time but i don’t think i was or really will ever be ready to talk about it   
TT: I wish I could insist that I will not try to force information out of you.   
TT: However, if I have to, I plan to do so.   
TG: yeah i kinda figured that much  
TT: So, Dave. Do tell me what is going on between you and that brother of yours.  
TG: im sure you dont actually need me to tell you shit but  
TT: But you’re going to tell me anyway.   
  
Alright, this is it. You’re going to have to fess up to something you don’t want to talk about, not to mention extremely illegal. You hope with every ounce of your being that nothing will backfire on you. If Rose decides to involve the authorities… You suppress the shudder creeping up your spine. She wouldn’t do that to you. She  _couldn’t_ do that to you.  
  
TG: right  
TG: so bro and i are kinda in this incestuous brotherly love kinda thing  
TT: I was afraid my assumptions would be true.   
TG: for fucks sake just let me finish  
TG: seriously rose shut the fuck up   
TT: I apologize, Dave. Do continue.  
TG: and dont fucking psychoanalyzing me  
TT: Right, right. I promise to do no such thing.  
TG: yeah whatever   
TG: i guess it all kind of started because i found out he likes cats  
TG: and i really wanted to fuck with him like he does to me all the time about photography and shit  
TG: but it kinda didnt really work out that way   
TG: im sure you could have guessed that though  
TG: no big twist here  
TG: you ruined the surprise ending rose   
TG: but there isnt much else to say   
TG: thats about it   
TG: sorry i know you wanted me to go on and on with details about my gay relationship with bro so you could use them in your wizard yaoi novels  
TT: I was going to do no such thing.   
TG: right  
TT: Part of me would like to know exactly how this happened, moment by moment, but based on the pedestal you have been placing your brother on for what I can only assume is the entirety of your life; I could not deny the possibility of this outcome.   
TG: shut up  
TG: and jesus christ if you knew that i would have incestuous relations with bro why the fuck didnt you try to stop me before it happened   
TG: like put up a fucking warning sign or something  
TG: hey dave youre about to walk into a gay pride parade festival that also happens to be an incestuous tar pit  
TG: no turning back gonna get sucked down into the deep dark gay abyss   
TG: so you should just stop talking to bro  
TG: insert big presumptuous words here   
TT: Do you honestly think you would have believed me, Dave? You hardly believe most of the things I tell you to begin with. Wouldn’t this be the most farfetched of all the things I could have said?   
TG: yeah i guess   
TG: still though i have no idea what im supposed to do about it   
TT: You do understand the full ramifications of you and your brother’s actions, am I correct?    
TG: of course i know  
TG: you seriously think i dont worry about that all the fuckin time???  
TT: I am in no way doubting the moral dilemma you’re having right now, Dave. I just wanted to make sure you fully understand what could happen should anyone find out.   
TG: well go on   
TG: lay it on me  
TG: tell me how sick and fucked up this shit is    
TT: I never planned on “laying it on you”. While I do believe that it is indeed rather “fucked up”, I do not believe that you, or even your brother for that matter, are bad people.   
TG: seriously???   
TG: thats not exactly what i was expecting from you rose  
TT: Just because you and your brother are doing something against societal normalcy does not deem either one of you a bad person. While it is something I, myself, would not wish to partake in, I am not you and I cannot choose with whom I would want to share myself with.   
TG: okay  
TG: youre taking this pretty fucking lightly   
TT: I have had weeks to think about it. At first, I will admit that I was quite incensed with the situation. However, I did some thinking and realized if your brother was doing something you did not want him to do, you would not sit by and allow it to happen. I also believe your brother has more sense than to allow you to have your whim and way with him, if he did not wish for it as well. On top of it all, he obviously makes you happy if you don’t even realize you haven’t talked to your best friends in a month and half.   
  
Something deflates in you. Nerves begin to slowly unwind themselves as you reread what Rose said. Not bad people? So Rose isn’t pissed? You begin to read over her words for the tenth time, taking in everything. If this is Rose’s reaction, you think you just might be able to handle Jade’s and John’s. But reading the last line again, you feel something coil again; guilt in its purest form.  
  
TG: shit rose im sorry  
TG: ive been a fucking asshole   
TG: i just got so caught up in all of this shit that i just lost track of time  
TT: Dave, I am not angry with you. I am a little grieved you haven’t at least said “sup” in the last three weeks, but overall, I am not angry.   
TG: fuck rose i really am sorry  
TG: but thanks   
TG: do you think i should tell jade and john whats going on with me  
TT: Honestly?  
TG: would you actually lie  
TT: I might.   
TT: But no, I really don’t think now is the right time to tell them.   
TG: then what do i tell them  
TG: i cant lie to them  
TT: I suppose you are right, Dave. It wouldn’t be very fair to lie to them, would it?   
TT: Regardless, I still don’t think it’s a very wise idea. Jade may not take it too harshly, but I am very unsure how John would take it.   
TG: you dont think hell want to stop being bros do you  
TT: Again, I am unsure. However, if John would stop being “bros” with you, it would more than likely be because you avoided him nearly all summer. He was really looking forward to spending all summer pestering you. While, I personally think Jade and I are perfect replacements to be pestered, John insists “it’s just not the same with Dave”.  
TG: fuck   
TT: Fuck, indeed.   
TG: well i guess all thats left is to apologize  
TG: to both of them   
TG: okay well i guess ill get to it now  
TT: One more thing, Dave.   
TG: yeah???  
TT: So what’s your “legendary” Bro like?   
TG: …  
TG: oh fuck no   
\-- turntechGodhead[TG] ceased pestering tentacleTherapist[TT] \--

You cringe at Rose asking you for “details.” The last thing you want to do is to divulge  _details_ about how you and your older brother get it on. In the duration of your conversation with Rose, neither Jade nor John has messaged you. You take this as the bad sign that you feel it is, but with the knowledge that Rose isn’t pissed, you decide to move forward. The best is that you’ll have all your friends back and perfectly content with being friends after today. The worst… No. You don’t want to think of the worst. You’re pretty sure that with Jade it’ll be the former. With John, you’re hoping it’s the former. But something tells you he’ll be an in between medium; rocky and distant with you until the idea sinks in fully and he chooses to deny or accept it.

You decide to start with Jade first.

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering gardenGnostic [GG] \--

TG: hey jade  
TG: and please dont say oh wow dave strider is something or another  
TG: ive been a dick i know trust me  
TG: and i want to tell you why so just hear me out alright  
GG: … go on

You let out a breath. At least you have the assurance that she will listen to you before she decides what she wants to do with your friendship.   
  
TG: cool ok    
TG: so the reason i havent been on is kind of complicated  
TG: and its got something to do with those ears i asked you to make me   
GG: i finally get the truth now  
GG: i cant believe my eyes!  
TG: harley no  
TG: imma let you finish being snappy all you want when im done  
TG: but this is the best truth of all time  
TG: all time   
GG: get to it then!!!  
  
Alright so this is it. You have to tell the truth again. It isn’t easier the second time around and you know it won’t be any easier the third. But you have to, and you waste no time in typing out the first thing that comes to mind so you don’t have time to dwell on your words.   
  
TG: ok so the reason ive been gone is because well  
TG: fuck this is awkward as shit  
TG: at least rose knew what was going on so i didnt have to really say much but  
TG: fuck okay bro and i are kinda in a relationship  
TG: like a fuck brothers kind of thing   
TG: but maybe something a little more  
GG: wow um…   
GG: thats definitely not what i   
GG: are you fucking with me right now dave?   
TG: i really wish i was harley  
TG: its gay and filled with illegal things  
GG: no details are really necessary!  
GG: but what does this have to do with the ears  
TG: you said no details  
GG: oh my god!!!   
GG: ok im really at loss for words right now  
GG: i mean im really upset you didnt talk to me for so long and im not really mad about um whatever youre doing with your brother  
GG: but why didnt you say anything dave?  
  
Again something begins to loosen in your stomach. You’ve gotten lucky twice in a row. Is it possible that John will take the same outlook as Jade and Rose? You don’t want to count your ironic chickens before they hatch, but a small feeling of hope begins to replace some of the nervousness.   
  
GG: i know im probably not the best person to get advice from or anything but seriously!!!   
GG: i wouldnt ever judge you just because you love someone even if it was kind of… weird  
TG: woah slow your roll harley who said anything about love  
GG: well you do love him right  
  
Fuck. No. You don’t want to talk about love. You don’t want to talk about anything even remotely close to love. Not even your love for photography. You just don’t.  
  
TG: wow i so do not want to be having this conversation right now   
TG: and yeah maybe in a brotherly way  
TG: maybe even more than that  
TG: but i dont want to talk about my gay feelings for my brother that are all sorts of fucked up and backwards alright  
GG: alright!!!   
GG: i just think you should probably evaluate your situation  
GG: it is kind of illegal   
GG: and i dont want you or your bro to get in trouble  
GG: and i really dont want you to get hurt either dave  
TG: thanks harley   
TG: i do actually appreciate it   
TG: even unironically   
GG: thats sweet dave  
GG: if you ever want to talk about those feelings you dont want to talk about or even you know say hi once in a while  
GG: im still your friend!!!  
TG: thanks jade  
TG: really  
TG: but ive got to tell egbert now  
GG: um   
GG: dave i dont mean to criticize your choices or to agree with lying  
GG: but do you really think thats such a good idea??

Seriously what the fuck is up with your chick friends? John is your best bro. While the situation is not exactly ideal, and yeah, you have to admit it’ll probably make him super uncomfortable, why wouldn’t he accept you?   
  
TG: damn  
TG: what is it with you guys  
TG: rose didnt want me to tell you or john  
TG: and you dont want me to tell john  
GG: i just dont think john is going to be as supportive as rose and i are!!!  
GG: and as much as im really not exactly happy with the whole situation im not going to tell you what you can and cant do or what you should and shouldnt do  
GG: and i certainly wouldnt want to do anything that might upset you  
GG: but i dont know about john  
GG: hes really upset youve been ignoring him all summer  
GG: i dont think hed normally be too upset about the situation but now that hes upset with you already…   
TG: well damn  
TG: trying to do the right thing here  
TG: dont i get some kind of fucking gold star for that at least???  
GG: this isnt just about doing the right thing by telling him  
GG: this is also about how youve been doing the wrong thing by ignoring him!!!  
GG: but i cant tell you what to do dave   
GG: i can really only give you advice and hope that it helps   
TG: youre right harley  
TG: ill think about it  
TG: also  
TG: im really sorry for being a prick this summer  
TG: i shouldnt have let everything get so fucked up  
TG: and ill be on tomorrow and the next day   
TG: and whenever i get a chance  
GG: dave its okay!!!  
GG: you dont have to be on every day  
GG: just remember you have friends too   
GG: ill let you talk to john now  
GG: good luck!!! :D  
  
\-- gardenGnostic[GG] ceased pestering turntechGodhead[TG] \--   


Now you only have one friend left to divulge your secret to. While Rose and Jade think you’re going to have a hard time with John, you’re feeling far more confident than when you started out. There’s still a little tingle buzzing through your veins as you click on John’s name.

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering ghostyTrickster [GT] \--

TG: look john  
TG: just hear me out alright  
TG: if youre still mad when im done im not going to force you to talk to me  
TG: just hear me out   
TG: im going to make this short and sweet im not gonna make excuses for myself or anything like that  
TG: i know ive been an asshole and havent even talked to you this summer   
TG: and thats pretty shitty of me and im sorry john  
TG: im really fucking sorry   
TG: but the reason ive been gone and the reason why i couldnt tell you is pretty fucked up already  
TG: i know this going to be hard to believe but its totally fucking true  
TG: its not for irony purposes   
TG: or whatever fucking pranksters gambit you have   
TG: its one hundred percent fucking real  
GT: oh my god! get on with it dave!   
TG: alright sorry man  
TG: fuck still awkward the third time  
TG: shit  
TG: bro and i are gay  
TG: for each other  
TG: with each other  
GT: uh.  
GT: you can’t be fucking serious.   
TG: no dude im serious  
GT: wow, really?  
GT: that’s all kinds of illegal, dave.   
GT: not to mention kind of fucked up in pretty much every way possible.  
TG: i know dude  
TG: i know  
TG: i wanted to say something after we got into a fight  
TG: but i didnt know what to say or how to say it  
TG: it isnt fucking easy to confess to a fucking plethora of things at once  
GT: i didn’t even know you were gay.   
TG: i know   
TG: i didnt either  
TG: i still dont think im completely gay either   
GT: yeah, okay.   
GT: but i think the gay part is the least concerning aspect of this.  
GT: the most concerning being that he’s your older brother. much older brother. and that he knows better and he’s coercing you into something illegal.   
TG: woah   
TG: who said anything about coercing   
TG: no one is coercing me  
GT: i think it’s pretty fucking obvious that he’s taking advantage of you, dave.   
TG: no  
TG: he is not taking advantage of me  
TG: im the one who started this shit to begin with  
TG: i coerced him  
GT: really? how long have you had a homosexual crush on your brother then, dave?  
GT: cause it’s seriously news to me.   
  
You blink at the screen. How long have you had this “crush” and how did it even start?

TG: dude  
TG: i dont think i can trace back how long   
TG: or when it started for that matter  
TG: i just know its what i want  
TG: as fucked up as it all is   
TG: i want it   
GT: that’s great, man.  
GT: i’m happy for you.   
GT: but i’ve got some stuff to do.   
GT: talk to you later.

\-- ghostyTrickster [GT] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG] \--

 

John logs off a few seconds later and you stare at the screen, unsure of what to even make of that exchange. Did that go well? Did it blow up in your face? For John, that was pretty nonchalant. You have no idea how to construe the conversation so you quickly log off Pesterchum before anyone else can bother you. You just don’t feel like dealing with any more questions right now. You’ll log on later to see if John will give you a more definite answer.

Sighing, you push yourself back from the computer and flop down on your bed. So many things are buzzing around in your skull and you feel the start of a headache coming on. You’d been so busy with your friends that you had forgotten about everything else, like school and the mysterious package Bro is lording over you.

You think you should ask Rose if you’re as transparent as you’re beginning to worry you are. But if Jade and John didn’t realize anything, then you doubt many of the students would either. Rose is a special case, but what about the teachers?

You suppose they could never prove if it was Bro unless either one of you confessed. Like hell you would, and you seriously doubt Bro would, either. Both of you have a lot riding on this so you resolve to do as much as you can at keeping it a secret.

Part of you wonders if you’ll always have to keep it a secret. After all, incest is also frowned upon, just as having sex with minors is. You don’t think you’d mind having to keep it a secret. It’s not like you wanted to get married or some shit.

Something bubbles in your stomach.

Something nagging and twisting that wants you to evaluate your  _feelings_ for Bro. You try to squash them down, but feel them begin to boil over into your already filled mind.

What kind of affection do you hold for him? Is it something more akin to lust or love? Is it something you could really define and put meaning to? Or something far beyond the reaches of a simple four-lettered word?  

You suppose the first place to start would be to answer a few simple questions. How do you feel about Bro as a person? You willingly admit to yourself in the private confines of your own brain, that he’s your favorite person in the world. Even with John as a best friend, you still got a higher thrill hearing the keys in the lock signally Bro’s arrival, than when you heard John log on to Pesterchum.

How do you think Bro feels about you? You frown and shove this one down for later. You don’t really want to answer it.

How do you feel about Bro as a brother? You’ve always thought he was a pretty shitty guardian and brother, but still yours no less. It wasn’t a question of whether he was supportive, encouraging, or a presence in your life. Bro was and still is all three of those things; in his own way. But besides the small amount of memories you have retained from childhood, Bro has always seemed somewhat distanced from you in a lot of ways. Especially after you turned twelve.

Did you do something at the age of twelve that caused him to really pull away from you? Or did  _you_ pull away from  _him_? You strain your aching mind to reach out to your twelve year old memories. You know you met your best friends around this time, so you suppose you probably  _did_ pull away from Bro; albeit unintentionally.

But you can also faintly remember times where you tried to get Bro to hang out with you at twelve and thirteen and he’d seem hesitant.

You slug your arm over your already shaded eyes, as if the extra protection could soothe the throbbing headache biting at the recesses of your skull.

After long moments of reminiscing various memories, one in particular slaps you sharp in the face.

Something that may give you a few small pieces of the answer to Bro’s distance; and possibly his actions in general.

It started with a strife. The only strife you feel that you came close to winning against Bro.

You recall the long months where Bro stopped challenging you to rooftop strifes and turned you down every time you proposed one. Why didn’t you realize it sooner? It all made so much sense now. 


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some flash-backy kinda stuff going on in this one. :3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! I’m done. I’M DONE I’M DONE HERE. OH MY GOSH. PLEASE TAKE MY CHAPTER UPDATE.
> 
> Okay. Before you can go on an read, first thing I’d like to let you all know is this chapter starts out with a FLASH BACK. Okay. And also, I was curious if anyone wanted to read this chapter from Bro’s point of view? If you guys do, please just send me a message or something to let me know. It’ll depend on how much people want it, how many people don’t. ANYWAY HERE.

“Come on, little man. I know you can do better than this.”

“Shut your fucking mouth.”

“Big words from someone who hasn’t landed a single blow.”

The smirk contrasts the tight-lipped frown on your face.

Sweat beads down your back and seeps into the fabric of your shirt. You’ve only been on the roof for ten minutes and it’s already soaked. The humidity stifles you without a breeze to move the air. It’s sticky, hot; the sun is relentless. Your chest heaves as you stare down your brother. With fists clenched tight around the hilt of your sword, you struggle to catch your breath and ignore the bite of the fresh cut on your chest.

Bro stands unflinching, seemingly unaffected by the blazing rays of the sun. You’re too far away to see the sweat that you know is rolling down his neck right now. His shirt isn’t nearly as soaked as yours; how does he deal with the heat so easily?

This shit needs to end; you feel like you’re dying. You grit your teeth and suck in a breath as you rush forward. You decide to throw caution away and try to end this quickly. You want to retreat into the cold shower waiting for you below.

You know he was waiting for you to make the move. As soon as you’re in sword’s reach of him, he flash steps away. Your eyes can’t follow the movement and you strain to hear him over the rushing of blood in your ears.

You turn quickly, trying to figure out where he’ll stop. You realize a second too late that it was the wrong move.

His foot connects with the middle of your back, sending you flying forward. The air is knocked from your lungs and you hit the concrete of the rooftop. It scrapes your arms just a little, but it doesn’t hurt and you think little of it. You quickly scramble back up; your back giving a small groan of protest. You take a few short, shaky breaths that bring a small amount of relief. You’re only slightly proud you were able to hold on to your sword. And despite the growing irritation, you disallow yourself to turn on the spot and swing your sword at the empty air.

It would only end in a lecture and piteous laughs from your brother.             

He watches you get up and when you ready yourself to launch another attack, he’s flash stepping out of a sight. You decide to turn back and forward quickly, hoping this time he’s unable to catch your back. At least from the front you’ll have a small opportunity to counter his attack. With no such luck, you feel a push at your shoulders, and you stumble forward a little. You feel the rage building, licking at your insides; hotter than the fierce sun above you.

You wait a few seconds before you turn around; he moves again. You try to decide where he’s going to end up and the time you spend deliberating gives Bro another opening. You feel the collar of your shirt being wrenched forward and you spin in his grip. With his fingers clenched in the fabric of your shirt, he slams you back down to the concrete.

You drop your sword and your palms scrape the ground as you try to catch yourself. You’re pissed and tired and hot. But what makes you really angry is how ashamed you for making yourself look so weak. You want this to be done with. Once you recover from falling, you grab for your sword and you feel his foot crash down onto your already abused hand.

Insult to injury; Bro’s favorite tactic.

“Fuck!” You can’t control the strangled noise that emits from your throat. Bro grins down at you as he releases his foot. You look up at him. “Aren’t you fucking satisfied yet?!”

He takes a step back from you and crosses his arms. You think Bro will relent for one fraction of a happy moment, before you remember that he’s Bro. The next second you’re being snatched off the ground by your shirt again. He flash steps away and you have no idea where he’s hiding now.

A strangled noise rips from your throat and you claw the shirt off of your back, throwing it to the ground as if it’s the one that’s offending you. The sun burns as you run your eyes around the roof quickly, searching for your piece of shit brother.

This has been one of the worst strifes you’ve ever had with Bro and you’re beginning to feel your patience growing thin. You’ve got other stuff you wanted to do today. You’d just gotten some rolls of film you wanted to use. Your favorite TV show was airing a new episode twenty minutes ago. You wanted to take your bike down to 7/11 to get air in the tires.

Instead you’re up on the roof getting your ass handed to you and you’ve just about had as much of it as you can take. You don’t want Bro to think of you as a child anymore; he just let you drive the truck last week even though you aren’t supposed to drive yet. But you’re about to throw a fucking tantrum if this shit doesn’t stop _right now._

You choke back a scream as you feel your back being scratched by the blade of Bro’s sword. Wheeling around, your nostrils flare as you stare him down. He smirks. You’re about to surge forward, when an idea strikes you.

You close your eyes behind your shades for a moment, and concentrate. You take a small step forward and open your eyes. Bro flash steps.

So do you. You feel yourself relax for a fraction of a second, allowing you to grab at the fabric of space around you. You’ve never been able to control flash stepping like Bro, so you rarely rely on the ability you _do_ have. It’s difficult, you’re not as fast as him, and you can’t go very far. If you tried doing it as often as Bro does, you’d lose a lot of energy. You think you hear Bro stop and you, too, pull yourself to a stop, careful not to misstep.

Bro ends up a foot from where you were standing, catching his balance gracefully. You stopped just in time, catching the realization on his face when he sees you appear in front of him. Using the fraction of a second to your advantage, you slam your entire body weight into his chest.

He falls backwards, clearly caught off guard. Before he can throw you off of him, you straddle his lap as you bring your blade up. Bro’s faster and catches your wrist, holding off your arm from being able to bring the blade down to his throat. You struggle for a second, pushing as much body weight into it as possible. He clenches tighter on your wrist and you let out a loud groan as you feel something threatening to break.

Suddenly Bro’s throwing you off of him with every ounce of his strength. You fly into the door and your body screams as you collide with a sickening _crunch_.

Bro stands a few feet away with a look on his face that makes your blood run ice cold.

He looks _scared._

You stand up as quick as you can, wincing as your body protests. “Bro, I’m okay,” you confirm, holding up your wrist and waving your hand back and forth.

He doesn’t say anything and shrugs past you. He flash steps away into the confines of the building. You stare at the steps before turning back to the roof for your shirt.

For the second time, your blood runs cold.

_Bro left his sword._

You pick it up from the ground, along with your shirt. You stare at the blade and slowly make your way back to your apartment. The shower is already running when you shut the front door. You set the katana on the coffee table in the living room and head into the kitchen. You down a few glasses of water, soothing the dry burn in your throat.

Retreating back into your own bedroom, you strip off your shoes, socks and jeans and plop down on your bed in your boxers. You point the fan at you as you reach into the bedside stand, taking out disinfectant and bandages. You know Bro will be in the shower for a long time, so you might as well dress the chest wound. You don’t know if Bro will help you get the one on your back. He’d better, that fucking prick.

You wonder over what happened a few moments ago and try to rack your brains for answers. Did he really think he hurt you? The man who’s injured you bad enough for hospital visits “for your own good”?

You wince at the stinging of the alcohol and quickly slap some gauze over the wound and tape it down.

The stinging subsides after a few seconds and you flop down onto your stomach. You let the air from the fan hit the wound on your back as you worry yourself over your brother. Your whole body is sore and you feel drained. You wanted to shower before you fell asleep, but you know as soon as you shut your eyes that there’s no hope.

Your eyelids feel like sandpaper as you put the pointed shades on your bedside table. You feel like Bro’s staring at you as drift off to nervous thoughts about him.

You awake to a hand on your back. You flinch and turn your head to look up at Bro. “What do you want?”

“Go take a shower so I can treat that cut on your back. Don’t want any fuckin’ hospital bills.”

You can hear a roughness in his voice that makes you feel like you’re in trouble. Not wanting to upset him further, you don’t argue and slink off to the bathroom. You notice that he’s not looking at you. You’re unsure exactly how you know, but you _just do._

The cold water feels glorious on your skin as you wash off sweat and dried blood. When you get out, you wrap a towel around your waist after drying your hair. You inspect the wound on your back. It starts at the tip of your left shoulder blade and extends all the way down to the right side of your ribcage. It doesn’t look too bad, but it’ll leave a decent scar. You walk back to your bedroom with your boxers. Bro only had to warn you once about forgetting your clothes in the bathroom.

Dropping the boxers in your laundry basket, you turn to Bro. “It doesn’t look too bad. Doesn’t hurt much either,” you shrug as you cross to where Bro sat on your bed. You freeze when you see he has the same look on his face as earlier on the roof.

You don’t know how you _know,_ but you just do. He’s staring at you. You begin to count the seconds in your head.

 **Ten… Twenty-two… Thirty-six…** Bro never spaces off.

“Bro?”

“Shit. Forgot somethin’. Be right back.”

It’s all he offers as he quickly excuses himself from your room quickly, leaving you puzzled and staring at an empty doorway once more.

You don’t want to annoy him so you don’t follow. He’d tell you if he wanted you to know. You put on a clean pair of boxers and pull on some sweat pants. Despite the torturous heat of today, the breeze has picked up and the nighttime has brought in cool air. You open your window and prop your fan in it. The cool air feels wonderful and you revel in it until you hear Bro’s footsteps approach your door.

“Just had to get more gauze,” he shrugs.

You feel like it took longer than it should have to find gauze but don’t say anything. Bro’s actions today are really confusing you and you feel yourself wish that Bro could trust you with whatever it is that’s bothering him.

You make your way to the bed in front of him. The leather of his glove grazes your back as he examines the wound. It feels familiar and comforting as usual; though you’d never tell him so. You know it’s a little weird. You relax into Bro’s hands and only stiffen when you feel the stinging of the disinfectant. Once he’s secured the gauze on your back he gives it a small pat, his hands lingering a little bit longer than usual.

He clears his throat. “Turn around. You probably fucked this one up.”

You do as you’re told, positioning yourself comfortably so he can dress the wound. You know you didn’t fuck it up earlier, so you wouldn’t now. But you want a little more time with Bro before you don’t see him again until your next strife.

His hands work slower this time. You wish you would have remembered to slip your shades back on as you find it difficult to figure out what you should do with your eyes. If you close them, you feel like he’ll know you’re enjoying the attention. You decide you’ll stare at his hands, pretending you’re absorbing the knowledge you already know.

Again you feel as though his hands linger; you’re sure he’s just worried about the hospital bills like he said. He’s probably not making a lot of money this month.

“Alright, kiddo. Good to go,” he adds a small, half-hearted grin as he dismisses himself from your bedroom.

You watch him go.

Something felt different.

You couldn’t place it; but something felt _off_. You spend the next half an hour wracking your brain for ideas, dismissing each one after they pop into your head. Nothing fits and you decide you’re thinking about it too much. You fall asleep quickly and when you wake up, as you predicted, Bro has holed himself up in his room.

Summer vacations were always the same.

At least, they had been until a few weeks after that strife when you finally cross paths again.

Bro avoids your challenges and anything involving you in general. He even started picking up double shifts at work. You try to soothe your mind with answers of money troubles.

Every time you see each other, he nods noncommittally to you and rushes past. It stings a little and you start to feel as if you’ve done something wrong.

Maybe he had wounded pride that you got so close to beating him, and at twelve, too. You dismiss this. Bro would be _proud_ that you had done so well.

So why was he avoiding you? You feel yourself getting pissed off as the long days drag on and you see Bro less and less.

When you finally give up and realize you won’t get any answers from Bro, you withdraw into your own shell and ignore him back. You start spending far more time on the internet than you normally do. And quickly, you meet some cool people and get pretty close to a few of them.

And the problem you had with Bro slowly starts becoming less of a problem, until one day it just isn’t much of a problem anymore.

 

 

 

Your brain retraces every step of that memory. You try to remember everything. Down to the last fucking bead of sweat on Bro’s forehead. You push yourself up on your up in your bed and rip your shirt over your head. Looking down at your chest, your finger traces the scar above your heart. Several scars surround it, but it’s by far the worst one on your chest. You’ve always seen it as Bro’s last insult to injury; breaking your heart in a totally different way. You grimace a little at the old and long forgotten thought, dredged up in a search for answers.

It all makes sense now. You would never have believed it then. You were just discovering attraction at the time. But the way you were sitting on Bro; the noise you made. The way his hands lingered longer than they needed to when he dressed your wounds that night. When you stood in front of him in nothing but a towel. But above all else; _the way his face looked when he realized that he was attracted to his twelve year old brother._

You wince and continue absentmindedly tracing the scar over and over. You’re pretty sure that you’ve figured out why Bro was so against strifing and coming anywhere near you. You can’t imagine what that must have felt like to him.

You’ve always known that Bro walks a teetering line along the gray areas of morality. But even this one; he must have beat himself up over it. You _know_ he’s _still_ beating himself up over it.

You suddenly realize that you _really_ don’t want him to. You feel the urge to go and tell him that it’s okay. That it wasn’t wrong; even when you’re well aware that it was. Before you can stop yourself, you slide off your bed and walk down the hall to your brother’s room.

You linger outside a little and force yourself to stand still. Fidgeting is childish. You raise your fist and knock on the door, trying to collect your thoughts into something you can actually express with words. You feel as if you have a firm grasp on what you want to say, when Bro opens the door.

He’s no different looking; nothing has changed since you saw him last. But something slams you in the gut like a train. Losing everything you wanted to say, you press yourself up onto the tips of your toes and smash your lips to his. Fingers tangle into his shirt as you press him backwards into his room. He doesn’t move for a second; he’s caught off guard. When he catches up a second later his hand swings the door shut. His other hand snakes around your middle and presses firmly against your back, as he walks you two backward to his bed. 


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bro's POV and Dave get's a little surprise~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright! I’m cutting it super close to when I need to go to work! But I did it for you guys! So, I’m sorry that it’s been so long. Things here have just been so busy. It never actually warmed up for Spring, so we’ve still been Winter busy at work every day. It’s awful! And it’s cold out and it actually snowed the other night! 
> 
> I want Spring! At this rate I’ll have to settle for Summer. :c
> 
> Okay anyway! Here’s the new chapter! I’d like to thank everyone who stuck around and sent lovely, supportive messages to me during this long hiatus. I don’t know when the next chapter will be out, but I’m going to try my hardest to stay focused and get this one out within this month. 
> 
> I also have most of my requests that were made forever ago (SORRY!) mostly done. Most of them just need the last few paragraphs done and proofread. So expect those within the next month. 
> 
> Thank you all so much… <3 
> 
> Also there’s a little treat for you guys in this chapter~

Sun glares through the open window. The temperature in your bedroom is beyond uncomfortable. You begin to untangle yourself from the sheets, feeling the sweat pooling beneath you, rolling down your neck. You don’t mind the heat all that much, but it’s certainly too hot for you to sleep any longer. Reaching for your shades, you glance at your alarm clock reading the little red numbers. It’s still early by your standards and as you run your fingers through the damp mess of your hair, you contemplate your day. Swinging your legs over the side, you drag yourself out of bed. Arms lift above your head and you stretch, your spine makes audible pops. You crack your neck and head over to your closet. With a towel for a cold shower in your arms, you’re sure about at least one thing.

Today’s a great day for a strife.

The cold water feels like heaven on your hot skin as you wash away the layer of sweat. You lather your hair in expensive shampoo and you can tell the bottle is just a little more empty than it was yesterday. Dave doesn’t know, but you’re well aware he uses your shampoo from time to time. You can always smell it when you pass him in the hall, feel the difference when you ruffle his hair the way he hates. You rinse your hair clean of shampoo, reaching for the body wash to scrub at what’s left of the sweat the water didn’t rinse away.

When you feel clean, you loiter under the cool spray of the water, not quite ready to abandon its comfort yet. The water pulses on your skin and you notice your hand wrapping itself around your cock before you even realized you wanted to jerk off. Your hand moves slowly, the way the two pleasures mix is sweet. Your mind flashes through previous lays of different girls, guys, sometimes both as your hand’s pace quickens slightly. Your mind drifts from them to porn, stuck in a lazy haze of dicks and boobs behind your eyes.

Release begins to round the corner, sending heat spiraling through your stomach. As you feel your muscles begin to tense, you hear a loud bang on the door that slightly startles you, delaying your orgasm. Your lips pull into a slight frown as your hand stills.  

“Bro! Get the fuck out of the shower, man! I have to take a fucking piss!”

You idly rub your dick as Dave bangs his fist even louder into the door.

“Go piss in the sink Lil’ Man,” you shout back through the door, amazed and somewhat concerned that your cock has managed to stay mostly erect through your brother’s shouts.

“FUCK YOU. THERE ARE DISHES EVERY WHERE. I WILL PISS ON YOUR FUCKING SMUPPETS, BRO!”

You let out a quiet sigh into the cold spray, dropping your cock. Your left hand reaches behind you to jam the faucet off as your right grips at the towel hanging over the curtain rod. You dry yourself off quickly, wrapping your waist in the towel. You open the door to a red-faced, little brother, slightly bouncing on his feet. He growls up at you as you block his entrance into his own release; much as he denied you. You’ve not seen him this needy in a while, and that’s fucking sayin’ something.

You sneer as he pushes past you, slamming the door in your face before you can even say something about how much of a little bitch he’s being right now. You turn to head back to your room.

Once behind your door, you unwrap the towel from around your waist and dry off your hair. You pull on a pair of clean boxers and jeans, opting for a wife beater when a heated breeze rushes through your window. You’re about to sit down when an ache spreads through your body, originating from your balls. You have no time to jerk off right now, you’ve got accounting to do and smuppets to sew for an express order.

Fucking great.

Today _really_ _is_ a great day for a strife.

After finishing work for the day, you push yourself away from your work station and box up three of the six smuppets you need to send off in a few days. Tomorrow you’ll finish the rest before the post office closes and then you’ll head over there to ship them off to their new owner.

Your stomach growls and you decide to oblige it with some leftovers. You need to tell Dave to put his big girl panties on and get his ass up on the roof in twenty minutes or you’ll kill him, anyway. And you certainly don’t want to kick his ass to high hell on an empty stomach.

Container of Chinese in hand you lean on the back of the couch watching Dave as he zones out in front of the TV. When he was a kid he loved Summer Break because it meant he’d get to spend all the time school took away from him with you. Now he spends it bored and irritated, filling the house with his preteen angst. You don’t mind; he’s a lot more fun to tease now.

Dave barely glances at you, wrinkling his nose slightly at the scent of three day old Chinese.

“Sup?”

“Not a lot,” you reply around bites of beef lo-mein.

Dave shrugs and looks back at the TV you know he’s not really even watching.

“Hey, Lil’ Man,” you say after a few minutes pass.

He looks back up at you and you can see curiosity in the way his eyebrows give a little twitch upwards. You point your chopsticks at him. “Be on the roof in twenty,” you smirk down at him.

“Seriously, dude?”

“Seriously, dude,” your smirk widens.

“It’s a million fucking degrees. I’m not going to fucking strife.”

“I’ll turn the air conditioning on if you win.”

You can see in the way he sighs, that he thinks it’s at least worth a shot. If anything it’ll help cure a little bite off of the boredom he’s experiencing.

“Fine, but only because you’re going to fill my closet with plush puppet ass if I don’t.”

You smirk as he turns back to the TV. You finish your Chinese and throw it in the trash before heading back to you room. You appraise your strifing katana before chugging half a bottle of water and deciding to get in a little warm up time.

You flash step your way to the roof without Dave knowing. When you step out onto the concrete, you grin up at the blazing sun.

It _is_ a million fucking degrees.

You stretch your body out before taking a few practice swings. Maneuvering your body against the heat is almost a challenge and you know Dave stands zero change. It’s almost kind of cruel that you’re making him strife today. Just the way you like it.

You feel ready when Dave pushes open the door to the roof. He’s got his katana shouldered and you can hear a tiny groan emit from his throat as he takes in the full brutality of the heat and the relentless rays of sun as they beat down on the city.

He looks at you and quickly puts his body into position, eager to get this out of the way.

“Ready, kiddo?” you smirk from across the roof.

“Yeah, sure,” he shrugs, already beginning to sweat.

You unsheathe the katana, grinning as you ready yourself to give Dave a little payback for earlier.

 

Dave’s aims are sloppy, blows landing nowhere near where his target is. He’s slowing down and not dedicating this session to getting better. He’s just swinging his sword in hope of hitting you and getting the air turned on, never noting what he’s doing wrong. You push him away when he gets close enough to hit you, drawing your sword across his chest. He lets out a small yelp, locking his jaw to prevent any further noise from escaping. He stumbles back and stands still, hand pressing against the new wound.  

“Come on, little man. I know you can do better than this.”

“Shut your fucking mouth,” he hisses from where he’s standing. His hair is sticky, clinging to his forehead, red blossoming around the edges of the ripped fabric where you struck him. His chest is heaving frantically as he pants, trying to catch his breath while he glares at you with the same intensity as the Texas sun. He frowns, face breaking for a moment, and you can’t help but smirk at the image of him so frustrated.

“Big words from someone who hasn’t landed a single blow.”

Without much warning, Dave rushes towards you in a careless manner; sloppy. Not at all in the ballpark of what you’ve taught him. He must really be pissed, he doesn’t usually give up so easily.

You stand still as he runs towards you, waiting for the precise moment. As his sword almost lands against your hip, you flash step away. You keep your eyes on him as you move quickly through the blur. He finally makes the mistake you’re looking for, turning towards the false sound trap you’d laid for him. You pull yourself out of the step right behind Dave. Smirking, you kick your foot into his back, right below his shoulder blades. You can feel his body protesting for a quick second before being sent flying forward.

Dave hits the ground and you give him silent kudos for getting up quickly and not immediately retaliating. But he spins too quickly and you frown slightly at his shoddy work. Apparently he didn’t get the memo that you’ll just flash step away from his pathetic advances.

You do exactly that the second he gets in slashing range. This time as you run a loop around him, he tries to keep from exposing his back to you. Unfortunately, the sun seems to have made him lose all ability to track you while you’re flash stepping. It’s a shame too, you’d like it better if he was putting up an honest fight. But you can make this fun for yourself.

You get behind him before he can turn, giving him a much gentler shove to the shoulders. He stumbles and you wish you could see the enraged face he must be making. You’re sure it’s absolutely precious.

You get only a small glance of it when he turns as you flash step away once more. You were right; precious. This time he does attempt to track you, but it’s too slow. You stop right in front of his back as you reach out your free arm. Your grin widens as you tangle your fingers into the collar of shirt, wrenching him forward. He spins as you throw him forward, dragging him down to slam him against the concrete of the rooftop.

You watch his hands fly out; know that concrete burn has got hurt as he scrapes his palms. He lies against the rooftop for a moment, gathering strength in the heat. When he reaches for the katana that he dropped on the way down, you bring your foot down on his hand. That’ll teach him to do a half assed job.

“Fuck!”

Dave emits the most pathetic noise as he looks up at you, his shades, a perfect, little, replica of your own, are skewed. A red eye catches you and you mercifully drag your foot back away from his hand. You loom over him, hoping he’s retaining the lesson you’re trying to teach him.

“Aren’t you fucking satisfied yet?!”

You step away. Yes, this is a little bit about satisfaction. He ruined your shower and the whole moping around the house thing doesn’t exactly help his case. But you also won’t let him off the hook until he actually makes a real attempt in this strife. The minute he realizes this and does so, he can retreat to his angst corner and enjoy his ass a cold shower.

You arm quickly darts out, fisting the fabric of his sopping shirt in your hand. You drag his ass off the ground, making sure he’s stable like a fuckin’ gentleman before you flash step away from him.

You hear him snarl as his blurry form rips his shirt from his back, uncaring that you could ambush him at any moment. He heaves it to the ground and you can tell he’s looking for you. He’s not gonna find you; not with that fuckin’ attitude.

Dave just stands there, nostrils flaring and looking ten million times done with this strife. You debate how long you’re going to keep him here; just until you get bored you suppose.

You stop behind him, dragging your katana across the flesh on his back. You don’t cut too deep, just enough to cause him an irritating level of pain. He’s had worse. He wheels on you. You watch him take a small step and can’t believe he’s _still_ not getting the fucking point. You immediately extend yourself, flash stepping away from Dave.

You catch his still, blurry form before _he’s gone._ You continue moving quickly. Where’d that little fucker go? You can’t hear him and you decide to make a sudden stop. You _know_ Dave can’t control his abilities like you.

But this time you’re dead wrong.

Dave appears a foot in front of you; he actually catches you off guard. He slams his entire body weight into your chest. He’s by no means heavy; muscles not filled out quite yet. But it’s enough to knock you down and before you can fully grasp what is _actually_ happening, Dave is straddling your hips. You quickly grasp your bearings, catching Dave’s wrist as he brings his sword up, stopping it before he can bring the blade to your throat.

For the first time in your life, you actually appraise your little brother. Your eyes begin to roam as you hold his struggling arm away from you. Those muscles that aren’t quite filled out yet accent his slightly awkward and lanky body. Hip bones poke out from above his waistline, where his pants have slightly sagged. You can see a small patch of light blonde hair where his pants have fallen. The nice start of ab muscles glean with sweat, and his collar bone juts out in all the right places.

Your dick gives a twitch from inside the confines of your jeans and that snaps you eyes back  to Dave’s face immediately. _What the fuck are you thinking?_ You feel your hand tighten around his wrist, gripping it tightly. The bones grind beneath your palms and Dave allows a groan to escape his throat.

In that moment, an image of Dave straddling you like he is now forces itself into your mind. Instead of shirtless, he’s naked. His hands splayed across your chest, cock in your hand as cum paints your stomach; his face showing absolutely ecstasy. Nearly the same groan worming its way out of his throat; like fucking sick music to your ears.

When you feel your dick actually begin to grow hard beneath the warmth of Dave’s ass you can no longer sit here like this. You grip him by the shoulder and hurl him away from you as fast as you can. You can hear the loud _crack_ of him smashing into the metal door to the roof.

You pull yourself off the ground, blood running cold as you reel at what you’d just thought; whom you’d just thought about.

That your dick was still raging at the thought and no matter how hard you try it won’t go away.

Because you realize, so fucking help you, you fucking realize you want it.

You’re a sick asshole and you _want it._

Dave collects himself from the ground and stands up. You can see the pain in his face. You know he’s been abused in this strife; more than normal. He says something to you, but you don’t hear it.

You need to go; **_now._**

You quickly move past him, flash stepping down the stairs. It isn’t until you’re safe behind your bedroom door that you realize you left your katana lying on the ground of the roof. You’ll get it later. Right now you need a fucking beer and someone to punch you in the face.

You quickly retrieve the beer from the fridge and make your way to the shower. You curse yourself as you quickly get beneath the cold spray, washing away sweat for the second time today. Even though the water is cold, your hard on won’t budge. You _will not_ jerk off. You don’t deserve it and you’re absolutely disgusted with yourself that you even still have a boner to begin with. You’re not fucking fifteen; there’s no fucking excuse.

You’re a fucking piece of trash and you chug your beer beneath the water’s spray, trying so hard to forget what you know won’t leave you alone.

 

When you finally leave the shower, slightly more self-loathing than when you stepped into it, you notice the whirring of Dave’s fans. You figure he’s busy or sleeping or something and you don’t even want to look. You don’t want to see him.

You feel sick when something in you almost _aches_ to see him. It’s as if that _one_ image opened a flood gate of thoughts and emotions you want and need so desperately to suppress. Part of you tries to make it logical. Dave is all you have and all you’ve _ever_ had. He’s a good looking kid. It’s difficult not to feel some sort of unhealthy emotion towards him when he’s been your entire life for the past twelve years.

But you know that you’re making excuses for yourself. Trying to make it look better; like thinking of jerking off your brother isn’t _that_ bad.

You go to fetch another beer, when you see your katana lying across the coffee table in the kitchen. There’s a little bit of Dave’s blood adorning the blade and it reminds you of his wounds. He probably already got his chest, but the one on his back, he can’t get. You should probably help him clean it.

Two parts of you are torn between wanting to _help_ him and also wanting to put as much _distance_ between the two of you as possible.

You pad silently over to his bedroom door. You very slowly and quietly open it just a hair, peeking in. Dave’s sleeping and you look at the wound on his back. It’s not too deep and won’t require stitches. But it doesn’t look clean and you should probably get to it in the next hour. You find your eyes tracing the line of his back down to the curve of his ass in the nice boxe-

_FUCK._

You immediately shut his door.

Why can’t you unsee this? You forget the beer and go back to your bedroom, forcing yourself to work on the smuppet order and keeping your mind from wandering back into the filthy and revolting tar pit you were once so proud of.

An hour goes by and you realize you can’t put off Dave’s wound much longer. Setting down the half-sewn puppet, you push yourself away from the work table and quietly exit your room. You pause outside of Dave’s door for a moment, listening to the sound of the fan whirring. You hesitate, before putting your hand on the knob and entering. You loiter at the door, calling out your little brother’s name. He’s sleeping so heavily that all he does is stir at your voice. You walk over to the side of his bed and bring a hand down to his back. You can see the wound, still open, and bloodied. You give him a rough shake and say his name again.

He jerks a little, eyes snapping open as he takes you in. His face is confused as his eyes search your face; you can see a million questions in them as he pushes himself up a little. “What do you want?” His voice isn’t rude; it’s a genuine question.

“Go take a shower so I can treat that cut on your back. Don’t want any fuckin’ hospital bills,” you command him. You’re unable to control the harsh bite to your voice. Dave immediately sits up, untangling himself from his sheets. He’s in nothing but his boxers and you draw your eyes away from the sight. Dave quickly leaves; the tension is almost tangible in the room.

Left alone in Dave’s room, you walk around it slowly, taking in everything. You don’t often come in here; despite what Dave thinks. You have no reason to be concerned about him. Plus snooping isn’t exactly needed; he’d tell you anything you wanted to know. Even if he thinks he wouldn’t. You look at the pictures on the little clothesline. With more practice he could really do something with photography. You carefully examine his shelves, still grossed out by the dead things he’s collected; that you’ve bought him.

You sit down on the edge of his bed and your stomach twists. His scent is everywhere in the room and you actually _notice_ it. Something stirs inside you; something _shameful_ and _perverse._ You fight down thoughts; images. Everything is okay until Dave comes back into his room.

In a towel wrapped neatly around his waist, his hips poke out in attractive angles and you force your eyes away from them as your dick twitches. You can’t help your eyes from roaming around Dave’s body, taking in everything about him. You don’t realize he’s said something to you, until your eyes finish devouring his body and reach his face. He looks concerned.

“Bro?”

You feel yourself pop a boner and you know that you can’t treat him like this. You can’t _touch_ him like this. You clear you throat and let the first excuse you can think of tumble out of your mouth.

“Shit. Forgot somethin’. Be right back.”

It’s a fuckin’ weak excuse. But it’s a million times better than “Excuse me, lil’ man, just thinkin’ about what’d it be like to fuck you senseless.”

You exit the room quickly and shamefully hole yourself up back in your own bedroom. You’ve got to think of something quick. None of you boner reducing tricks are helping you. You’re lost at what you should do. You really want to believe this all because you didn’t get to finish jerking off earlier.

You hesitate for a few moments before your rip your jeans down to your thighs. Your hand wraps itself around your cock and you pump it, fighting all images of what your brain wants you to actually imagine. It’s quick and dirty; you’re not rewarding yourself for being a sick bastard. You jerk yourself off in a state of frustration and when you come you silently give yourself a mental pat on the back for keeping the guilty images from resurfacing.

You feel like the worst piece of trash as you retreat to the bathroom to wash your hands. Before you leave you snatch some gauze out of medicine cabinet. You head back to Dave’s room reluctantly and enter. He’s standing in front of the fan and thank fucking Jesus, the kid put on some goddamn pants.

“Just had to get more gauze,” you shrug. You sit down on the bed, blocking out thoughts as Dave comes towards you, standing in front of you. He slowly sits down with his back to you. You bring your hand up to examine his wound. It’s stretched from his left shoulder, down to the right side of his ribs. It’s a little less than a quarter-inch deep. Nothing that would require stitches.

You grab the disinfectant and began to rub it onto his skin. He stiffens against your hands, sucking in a little breath. You realize as you work it into his wound, that this is the first time you’ve really touched him in a long time. You don’t usually dress his wounds anymore. He always does it himself, and with him being in school, you strife far less. Don’t want CPS on your ass.

Though you probably, really, deserve it now.

You layer gauze gently over the wound and tape it down, leaving enough room for it to breathe. It’ll have to be changed again tomorrow when Dave gets up. When you’ve finished, you can’t help but notice your hands still trace over the curve of his shoulder blades. You stop yourself; but something primal inside of you wants you to touch him more. You realize how much you _crave_ it.

You make yourself sick as you clear your throat again.

“Turn around. You probably fucked this one up.”

Dave turns around and you almost feel as though he wants you to stay. You _know_ you’ve got to be imagining it. You’re projecting your own sick desires on him. You actually genuinely do care about his health, so you do dress the wound. Dave stares down at your hands the whole time and you wish you knew what he was thinking. Wish you could see his eyes. Is he uncomfortable? He definitely doesn’t seem like it. He’s almost leaning into your hands.

He’s just tired.

You can’t help but think about the way his chest feels. The way the muscles are beginning to form and he’s not the child he used to be. When something tells you to move your hands down, to graze your fingers over his stomach you immediately pull your hands away.

You’re not going to molest your fucking brother.

“Alright, kiddo. Good to go,” you tell him, forcing a grin and dismissing yourself quickly.

 

That was the last time you allowed yourself to really be near Dave so intimately. You stay mostly in your room. You don’t really speak to him in the hall or living room. You pick up extra shifts at work, even though your Smuppet business is doing massively well this month; you opened extra slots for custom work to keep busy.

You feel fucking awful as you watch his trust in you begin to fade. Watch as he becomes less open, less friendly; withdraws into himself.

You never wanted this. But you _can’t_ expose him to you. He deserves better. You watch as he drifts further away from you and you literally feel your self-loathing sky rocket. But even now, there’s still rogue thoughts that will pop into your mind; stray images you can’t shove down no matter how much you try, how much you want to rip your brain from your skull and scour it with steel wool.

Bless your goddamn heart, you fuckin’ try.

But you’re able to control them more and more with time. Maybe it’s his nonchalant attitude about you; maybe it’s just that he doesn’t fucking care anymore.

But you’re able to eventually get a bit closer to him, little by little. Rebuild your relationship a tiny, fucking babystep at a time.

But it’ll never be enough.

You can never be the same again.

 

 

Your fingers pry the packing tape off of the box slowly. You know exactly what the package contains. You spent a lot of money on this and you hope you’re getting exactly what you paid for; maybe more. If not, you have the power to bring down a company and you’re not above doing it.

You lift the flaps of the box open and look at the contents of the package. Bright orange fur greets your eyes and you grin. It’s the right color. Matches Dave’s ears perfectly. You reach your hands into the box and gently lift the tail out. It’s soft from what you can already feel and you trace your fingers over the fur and it is simply fuckin’ _divine._ You trail your finger up to the tip of the tail. The smooth butt plug attached to the end isn’t too big, but perfect for Dave’s tight, little ass. You smirk at the thought.

Your fingers linger for a moment longer, before smoothing the fur back down. You set it gingerly on the bed next to you; there’s one thing still in the box. You reach for it and take out the small wireless remote. Your smirk widens as you hold it in your hand. A few buttons cover its surface, promising different varieties of fun. Now for the real test. You place your hand over the plug on the tail and press a button on the remote. The tail immediately begins to vibrate, and it’s _strong._

You adjust the settings and the vibration pattern changes. Damn, you got your money’s worth, that’s for fuckin’ sure.

You’re about to test out a new pattern when you hear a knock at your door. You almost feel irritated by it, but you quickly put the tail back in the box and hide it under your bed. Once Dave tells you what he wants to say, you can explore his new toy. It shouldn’t take long.

You open the door and you see Dave, looking quite anxious for one reason or another. He’s shirtless and you draw your eyes along his chest, admiring what you see. When he looks up at you, it seems as though he wants to say something. But before you get the chance to ask him what’s up, he’s breaking you off before you can start. His lips press up into yours, his fingers trailing up your body to tangle into your shirt.

You have no idea what’s gotten into him and it takes a moment for your thoughts to be brought to the present. Dave’s pushing against you, trying to lead you back into the bedroom. You smirk against his lips and push the door shut behind him, snaking a hand behind him to pull him towards the bed by the small of his back.

You sit down when your thighs meet the bed, pulling Dave with you to straddle your lap. His lips attack yours with more intensity, as if this was the last chance he’d ever get to taste you. You’re not one to argue with his enthusiasm.

You allow him to push his tongue into your mouth, as you trace your fingers up his bare chest. His nipples just beg to be teased and you pinch them between your fingers, drawing an absolutely _delicious_ moan from his throat.

Your thumbs brush along his ribcage, as Dave bring his hands up to knock your hat off your head. His fingers run through your hair, gripping tightly as you run your nails down his back; hand dipping down his jeans to knead his ass. Dave breaks away from your lips and brings his mouth down to nip at your jaw, letting his hands fall to the hem of your shirt and tugging at it. You lift your arms up, obliging with the demanding little noise he makes. His hands quickly drop down to your jeans, tugging at the belt.

“Eager, are we?” you smirk.

“You going to sue me for wanting your cock?”

“I don’t think the court will allow you to pay me in your ass.”

He takes off his shades and sets the down on the bedside table; making a point to roll his eyes afterwards. He reaches for yours and you absolutely _love_ the face he makes every time he sees your eyes. He must feel like he’s part of some rare and exclusive club.

Because he is.

You reach your hand up to flick the little bell on his collar, admiring the way it sounds as it jingles. “I’ll take my pants off if you go over there,” you nod to the desk, “and put your ears on.”

“Deal.”

He’s off your lap quickly, slowing down once he realizes his eagerness doesn’t net him “cool points”. _But you adore it._ You undo your belt and stand up, watching as Dave positions his ears, clipping them into his hair. You let your jeans fall off your hips and Dave’s hands slow, his eyes following the discarded denim.

“Any day now,” you jeer, smirking as he scowls for a split second. He finishes and he’s immediately pushing you back down onto the bed.

“Lie back,” he demands, and you humor him. He straddles you once more, placing kisses on your collarbone. He nips at the skin when you bring your hand up to trace your fingers along his side. He kisses a trail down your chest, scraping his teeth against your stomach. You wonder what’s gotten into him.

But you don’t think too hard on it when he bring his mouth down to the head of your cock, giving a small kiss to the tip. He flicks his tongue out, teasing at the slit before taking the head into his warm, tight mouth.

Tangling your fingers in Dave’s hair, you control the urge to buck up into the heat of his mouth when he takes in another inch. You toy with the fur of his ears, admiring the sight of Dave’s lips wrapped tightly around your cock.

You let him bob up and down on your dick for a few delicious moments before you call his name. He slows his mouth a little and looks up at you with those amazing eyes of his eyes.

“Come here,” your voice is husky as he slowly pulls his mouth off of your cock, placing a loving, little kiss on the tip once more before he moves up your body. You quickly wrap your hands around his ribs before rolling him underneath you. You loom above his body, taking in his erection just begging to be touched.

You let out a quiet, pleased hum. You’re about to wrap your hand around his dick, when an idea strikes you.

Now’s a really good time to try out his new toy. You know you said he’d have to wait and be a good boy.

It was really you that needed to be patient. But you make the rules, and you’re going to veto the shit out of that one.

“Would ya like to see what I bought ya?” you ask him.

He looks down at you and you can see something light up in his eyes. He clearly didn’t think it’d be this soon either. “You serious?”

You nod, giving him a low, “mmm hmm,” as you idly trace your thumbs over his skin.

“Yeah, I guess that’d be cool,” he replies nonchalant. He doesn’t want to seem too excited in case you decide to pull the “too bad” card on him.

Not today. Not this time.

You lean a little over the side of the bed to fish out the box, quickly extracting the tail from it. Leaving the box in arm’s reach, you place the tail in Dave’s waiting hands. He looks it over slowly, appraising the fur. His face flushes a little as he takes in the plug. He doesn’t say anything about that.

“Wow, this is fucking nice, Bro,” he comments, toying with the fur.

“Course it is. Cost me a pretty penny, little man,” you grin as you watch him begin to explore the plug. “Hand it here,” you tell him.

He does so, biting down on his lip. You grab some lube from the bedside table, squirting some out onto your fingers. You bring them down to press at his entrance, rubbing a little as you look up at him to double check if it’s alright. You’d never do it if he wasn’t ready.

He gives a small nod, you can see just a touch of hesitation in his eyes. But there’s something else there; eager excitement.

You push your fingers into his body, feeling how hot it is. You can’t wait until the day it’s your dick you’re pushing into him.

He sucks in a breath and you slowly and gently move your fingers, opening him up for his tail. You drag your fingers upwards, reaching for his prostate and taking in the lovely twitch of his cock, the quiet moan as you hit it.

Once you feel he’s sufficiently prepped, you remove your fingers and smear lube down the plug. Dave looks a little nervous as you press the cool tip to his hole.

“Relax your muscles, alright?”

Dave nods and takes in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. On his exhale, you begin to push the toy into him. He immediately tenses up and lets out a loud groan. “Fuck, Bro…”

You stop pushing and rub soothing circles into his hip with your freehand. He’s tight; you feel jealous of his tail.

When he relaxes his muscles once more, you push a little more into him, soothing him when he tenses again. You’re able to push it into him all the way finally; Dave is panting a little.

“Uncomfortable,” he mutters, clenching his jaw a little.

“Don’t worry, it gets easier,” you reassure him. You lean over the bed once more and pick up the remote while Dave adjusts to the plug in his ass. The tail looks perfect between his legs. You stroke it, eyeing him.

“You ready to see what your toy does?”

He lifts his head and quirks an eyebrow at you. “Does?”

You smirk and quickly press the first button on the remote. You can hear a faint buzz as the plug begins to vibrate.

Dave lets out a loud groan and his head falls back to the bed. “Fuck!”

It’s just as you suspected, the toy sits perfectly right against his prostate. Dave fists the sheets as the vibrations pulse through his body. You know this is the first time he’s felt anything like this; you can tell he’s loving it.

“Dave.”

“Nnn, fuck… What?” he replies, a little bit of irritation in his voice from being asked to pay attention to anything else but the buzzing toy in his ass.

You turn the vibrations off and give him a disapproving look. He whines at the loss of sensation. “Now, that’s no way to talk to your Master.”

“Fuck! Sorry… Master.”

“Good boy,” you reward him by turning the vibrations back on. A delicious moan bubbles from his throat as he presses his hips upwards. “Now purr for your Master,” you command.

He chews on his lip, trying to focus. He lets out a weak little purr, a moan breaks it a second later. Once again you turn the vibrations off. A little whimper rolls off his lips as he rocks his hips, looking for friction.

“S-Sorry, fuck… Master. I’m sorry,” he begins to purr quickly, keeping it going strong once you turn the vibrations back on. This time, you reward him by wrapping your fingers around his shaft, working it slowly. You change the vibrations, letting it pulse through him in sets of long vibrations and short pauses.

Every time the vibrations cut out, he makes the most needy, slutty noises. They’re far more delicious than you ever thought they could be. Dave’s face begins to turn red and he has to stop purring so he can pant. You decide to let that one go; he _does_ need to breathe.

“Master. Please. Can I come?”

You decide he’s been pretty good, and you’re eager to see the white splashed across his chest from a well earned orgasm. You turn the vibrations back to constant, jerking him off with one hand as you reach down to fuck his ass with the plug, moving it in and out slightly.

The new sensation has him crying out as he spills on himself. You hum in approval as you turn the tail off, watching his body twitch, sweat beading on his thighs and his forehead.

He’s a sight to behold.

“So I take it you like it?”

“I love it,” he manages to say between deep breathes.

You reach down and grab your shirt, cleaning off his chest quickly. Once his chest is mess-free, you bring his tail up from between his legs; relish the little groan that is elicited from the slight movement of the plug. You drop it on his chest.

“Hold it,” you command him, voice low as you spread his thighs, getting in between them. You fist your cock, jerking yourself quickly. You watch him watching you through his eyelashes, face flushed a little as he toys with the fur of that wonderful, orange addition. “You look fuckin’ perfect like that; just like a slutty, little kitten.”

You come on his stomach when he begins to purr for you; fuck.

You wipe him off once more and he gently places his tail down beside him on the bed. You roll off of him, flopping your back down against the bed.

After a moment you turn to him. “So whaddya wanna talk about, little man?”

He glances up at you and then looks away. You think he’s about to shrug when he turns towards you. “You’ve had this…,” he can’t find the right word, so he gestures between the two of you, “this _interest_ , for a while haven’t you?”

_Interest?_ That’s a nicely, sugar-coated way to put it. Your eyes cloud a little as you swallow a little bit of that guilt that likes to wash over you all the time.

Dave reads you; he’s getting better at that.

“Bro, it’s okay.”

“Not exactly,” you interrupt him, giving a little shrug.

“I know that it’s not exactly the best thing that could have happened,” he begins, and you’re about to retort something, before he shoves his hand over your mouth. You glare at him. “Actually, you know, it kind of is. For the first time, not only do I have you all to myself, I get to _keep_ you all to myself. I can tell you things I couldn’t before. And you know what? I can actually _talk_ to you. I can actually have you as something other than ‘awkward brother who doesn’t want to corrupt poor, pure Dave,’!”

You stare are him, completely void of anything to say. This is the most open he’s been with you and in the back of your mind there’s a million, valid arguments running through your mind.

But the next thing he says; there’s no real argument for.

“Bro, I’m attracted to you all on my own. You didn’t corrupt me. I’m sixteen. I know what sex is. I was probably fourteen the first time I had a fucking _wet dream_ about you…” his face flushes a little. You can tell he never wanted to divulge that little secret to you.

“First time?” You quirk your eyebrows at him.

“That’s not the point. I know that what we’re doing is ‘wrong’ by other people’s definition. But what about you Bro? Can you honestly tell me the way we feel, the way I feel about you is _wrong?_ ”

His eyes are furious and determined as he stares up at you, waiting for your answer. You clear your throat. It’s difficult to swallow the whole, “yes, it’s still wrong,” speech that wants to tumble out of your mouth. All you ever wanted was to protect him. And he’s made it clear that he doesn’t want it. That he may never have wanted it in the first place.

“No, it’s not wrong,” you repeat, feeling slightly convinctionless.

“Bro, seriously. Trying to keep this from me for as long as you did; it was fucking torture okay?”

A whole new guilt bubbles. “You’re right, Dave. I’m sorry.”

Dave opens his mouth, then shuts it again. He raises his eyebrows.

“You know, I never thought I’d ever get an apology out of you.”

You smirk a little. “I’ve been a shitty brother, Dave. Want me to spend the rest of my life makin’ it up to you?”

He furrows his brow, just a little. “Yeah, actually. That’d be sweet as fuck.”

You wrap your arm around his waist and pull him closer. Thoughts zoom around through your head, trying to break into a million other little thoughts.

“You know, Bro. Just because we share the same fucking blood doesn’t mean we can’t be together. I think it just makes us closer... or some shit like that,” he glances away a little.

“Okay kiddo, this got a little too gay for my taste,” you push him away a little.

“Fuck you, asshole!”

You chuckle a little, pulling him close again. “I’m not gonna talk about my feelings, if that’s what you want from me, little man.”

“I don’t care,” he shrugs.

You know he does, but you also know he’s always been extremely mindful of minding his own business and keeping out of your head. It’s one of those things you like about him; it’s something you didn’t actually teach him much off. He’s just always been like that.

“So how do you like it?” you gesture to his tail after a moment.

He gives you a grin. “It feels fucking amazing. Though,” he glances away again. “It’s making me feel really fucking weird that I have something just chilling in my asshole right now.”

You can’t contain the roar of laughter.

“Get used to it, you’ll be wearing it a lot more often now.”

He flushes. “Great. Wonderful. I look forward to it.” His voice is deadpan and you can taste the sarcasm dripping off of his words. But you also can taste the truth; he’s fucking shaking in his boots to feel it vibrating his tight, little ass again.

And you’ll never be one to deny him this.

 

 

 


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which I finally update and Bro is hungry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> JEEZY PETES I AM SO SO SORRY EVERYONE.
> 
> I know it's been a long time. I'm in a bit of a rush, so if you wanna know where I've been, check my Tumblr and it'll give you a (semi-valid, but really not) excuse as to why I've pretty much stopped updating.
> 
> BUT HEY I'M UPDATING NOW. AND WILL HOPEFULLY BE UPDATING AGAIN BY THE END OF MARCH.
> 
> Anyway, thank you so much for all of your continued support and patience. <3

In the early morning, you detangle your limbs from under Bro’s heavy body. His chest rises and falls slowly. He only looks this peaceful while he’s sleeping. You don’t want to wake him, so you do your best to slink from the bed and out the door. You have to pee like a racehorse and your stomach growls viciously on the way to the bathroom. You didn’t eat dinner before the two of you fell asleep last night after the third or fourth round. You lost count.

The tile is cold on your feet and as you step into the bathroom you realize something furry is touching the back of your legs. It takes you a moment of internal freaking out before you remember it’s the tail. You find it odd that your body seems to have gotten used to it to the point of not even registering its existence, but you suppose you did sleep with it in.

You decide to leave it, though you feel a little weird as you catch a glimpse of it in the mirror when you go to wash your hands after a thoroughly pleasurable piss. You can’t believe how fucking long the thing is. It trails on the floor just slightly and you’re careful to side step over it on your way out of the small bathroom.

The kitchen fridge is practically empty when you pull open the door and examine the inside. The dim bulb illuminates old leftovers, an empty gallon of milk, and some pretty questionable eggs. Not to mention a few shitty swords.

With a groan, you shove the door shut with your hips and switch to the cupboards. It contains just as little, with the only makeable things being those that require milk and butter.

You check the oven clock and realize it’s too early in the morning to order any food; 5:42 am. You suppose you _could_ rackjack Bro’s truck and hit up Walmart before he wakes. You can probably get some shit to make breakfast. Maybe you can do it in a gay little apron and just your tail.

It’d be kinda hilarious to watch Bro struggle over whether he wants to eat before or after jerking you off against the counter.

With a smirk to rival Bro’s, you look back at the clock and make up your mind. Bro would be pretty pissed off that you took the truck without permission, but if you get back before he wakes up and start on breakfast, his wrath should be pretty much dissipated by the time he’s done eating breakfast; and maybe you too.

You head to your bedroom and pull out some jeans and boxers. You’re about to pull on the underwear when you remember the tail. Reaching around awkwardly, you grab the base and give it a little tug. It feels fucking strange as you remove it, wincing at the thought of putting it back in on your own. The slightly empty feeling the plug leaves feels weird and maybe a little part of you misses it. Your nose wrinkles, and to tell the truth, the whole thing kind of embarrasses you to the max.

You pull your boxers on, quickly slipping into the jeans and belting them around your waist. They’re scraggly and you’ll be in need of some new ones soon. Hopefully longer ones. How are you still so short in comparison to Bro?

The breeze blows in through the window and sends goosebumps over your exposed skin. It seems to have cooled off quite a bit. Fall is rolling in and you wish you could forget about school looming over you. It’s just around the corner and you remember the stack of paperwork you’ve got to fill out and have Bro sign. You always do the leg work, since he’s usually so busy with his smuppets and all that shit.

You slip into your red record shirt and slip a black jacket on, leaving it unzipped. You start to head back into the kitchen, before you stop halfway, turning back to Bro’s room. You barely reach your arm in to snatch your shades from the dresser where you’d left them. You tiptoe away from his room and into the kitchen. Checking your wallet for cash, you grab the keys off the counter and head out into the living room. Your shoes wait loyally by the door and you pull them on. Listening for long moment before quietly exiting the apartment, you lock the door behind you with stealth. You breathe a sigh of relief after thirty seconds. You made it out alive without waking the kraken.  

You jog down the stairs, hopping the last three to the landing. You dodge past a mom and her three trailing kids, out into the crisp morning air. It even smells like autumn. Part of you is happy about it; you love Halloween, cool air, pumpkin lattes, and crunchy leaves, and all that awesome shit that comes with the season. But again, school eats at your brain as you take notice of a barely visible change in leaves on the large oak that waits outside your apartment. As a kid you used to climb the thing, Bro urging you higher into the tree, where a normal parent would insist you climbed down immediately. Maybe he was never worried you’d lose your footing and fall. Or perhaps he always _knew_ he’d be there to catch you if you did.

Even when it seemed like he wouldn’t be, he always was.  

You slide your hands into the pockets of your jeans, keeping them warm as you walk towards the parked truck. Months ago, you would have been ready to go back to the daily grind of school, but now with this summer that you’ve had, you don’t want it to end. You’re nervous about how to hide what you’re doing and how you’re going to juggle a normal life when you have such a strange one at home. You’ve been in a few relationships, but it’s not like you ever let them leave the school grounds, really. Maybe went to a few movies, but really you let them die as quickly as they started, never feeling the need or interest to really commit to them.

Now you’ve got something you don’t want to end. And whether or not you and Bro want to call it a relationship, (really, is it? What is it?) or not, it’s still something that requires putting time and effort into.

And you just don’t know how everything’s going to pan out. And even though you’re not like Bro where you _need_ to know everything, you still don’t exactly relish the idea of the unknown when it’s got such terrifying consequences.

On top of that, you still haven’t worked everything out with your _friends_. John left you hanging in a way that still made your anxious. You know your bro would never do anything to hurt you and if he told, which you honestly believe he won’t, he would have only done it because he cares. Not that it would stop you from being angry, or keep the friendship from being burned. But, nonetheless, just having this wedge driven between the two of you right now was killing you in ways you refused to admit. He was, maybe still is, your best friend and you would have hoped he’d be more accepting, more than Jade and Rose ever could. You didn’t need him to understand it, just accept it.

You shake all of your jumbled, confusing thoughts out of your mind, as you unlock the truck and hop into the driver’s seat. Right now you just really need a breather and a _nice_ _breakfast_ with your Bro is perfect for that. You adjust the driver’s seat to fit your legs; goddamn Bro and his goddamn height. You fix the mirrors, buckle the belt and turn the key in the ignition five times before Bro’s baby finally agrees to start.

Must be the out-of-place chill.

You pull out of the space and head towards the store. It’s not too far away, maybe fifteen minutes. You fiddle with the dials on the stereo, clicking from the awful “ironic” country music to whatever is in the CD slot. It’s something Bro put together and you bob your head slowly as you drive along the mostly empty streets. It’s still too early for the morning commute.

You realize the gas tank is almost empty and decide to be a goddamn generous fucking brother and put in half a tank with your own (Bro’s) money. You head into the gas station to pay and hastily grab a Red Bull. While you are awake and alert enough to drive now, you don’t think you’ll make it through breakfast. The rest of the drive is peaceful, and you enjoy the space that you have to yourself on the empty roads.

When you reach Walmart, you park in a shit spot more than halfway down the lot. Really, why the fuck are there so many assholes at Walmart at six in the fucking morning on a goddamn Wednesday?

You ask yourself what the fuck you’re doing at Walmart at six in the fucking morning on a goddamn Wednesday.

You head inside, grab a cart and avoid the slow ass people loitering around sale chips. You notice a lady shoveling a bunch of Tostitos into her cart. Who the hell wants that many tortilla chips? She must be making taco salad for a pack of hungry ass wolves.

You push past people, towards the back of the store to pick up eggs and milk and bacon and all the shit that’s listed on the “Inconveniently Located” aisle marker. Really, why would they put that shit all the way in the back of the store? Probably so you’ll buy all their other shit on the way to and back. You decide to pick up some hamburger meat. Maybe you’ll make dinner. Maybe you both should start focusing on eating better more than once a month. You like take out Chinese and pizza just as much as the next self-respecting teen, but you also kinda wish you could have a home cooked meal more than once a goddamn trimester.

Even though Bro can cook pretty well, he never does. Maybe you’ll just have to assume the responsibility, even though he’s better than you.

Which is no surprise.

You grab a pound of sausage, too. Maybe you’ll make pasta tomorrow night. You get the noodles and sauce needed, and head to bread to pick up some loaves. They’ll be gone in less than a week if you get shit for sandwiches. Your next stop is the deli and the poor bastards who’ve been shaving meat since two in the morning.

You pick up two and half pounds of meat and grab the veggies needed for burgers. You wonder if Bro still has the grill in the storage unit. You could make them on the stove, but if you haul that fucker to the roof, you could have some gay ass kind of picnic.

You decide to go back to pick up another gallon of milk and some cereal and Poptarts. And some Doritos for the hell of it. And goddamn this is more than you were planning on. Walmart did it. They got their icy clutches right on your balls.

That or it’s all that domesticity running through your veins.

You wheel your squeaky ass cart over to the check out and Jesus Christ, would the turn some of those lights on? Seriously. Why are there on two lanes open? You can see a million employees wandering around with nothing to do but stand there so why aren’t they ringing people up? No one is fucking buying watches; stop standing behind the goddamn fake jewelry counter and ring up some assholes.

You vow this to be your last trip to Walmart.

You know it probably won’t be.

After a thirty minute ordeal of waiting in line, you put the few grocery bags in the passenger seat and head back home. You pop the tab on the Red Bull and chug it as you make your way through the traffic that’s beginning to pick up.

You find your parking spot open and pull the truck into it. You roll up the sleeves on your jacket and load the few bags onto your arms. After locking up the truck, you head back into the apartment complex, giving a brief nod and hello to an old lady checking her mail. You see her every now and then after you get off school. You take the stairs two at a time, before practicing flash stepping up the last few steps. You unlock the door as you debate whether or not you’re getting better at it.

Definitely not as skilled as Bro. Can’t help but think you probably never will be.

You kick your shoes off and head into the kitchen, putting away the groceries quickly. You return the keys to their spot on the counter and open the little closet door off of the living room. You rifle through it, taking out exactly what you’re looking for. You head into Bro’s room, snatching your ears off the bedside table, and set his alarm clock for thirty minutes from now. You sneak out just as quietly as you came. Bro didn’t stir even a bit during the process. He must be really tired.  

Or he’s just getting more comfortable with you coming and going from his room. You can’t help but grin just a little at that thought.

You head back into your own bedroom, and take off your pants and jacket. Stripping out of your t-shirt, boxers, and socks, a slight shiver runs down your spine. Is it anticipation? You decide to chalk it up to the open window blowing a cool breeze on your exposed flesh.

You slip the shades from your face and eye the tail. Biting your lip nervously, you pick up the plug by the base. You’ve never put anything inside yourself and you don’t exactly have the expertise that Bro has. But you don’t have much time and you want to start cooking now.

Searching your dresser, you find a bottle of half empty lube. You grab the tail and straddle your bed. Coating the plug with lube, you reach behind yourself and press the tip to your hole, gently beginning to push it in. It stretches you and you let out a tiny, little moan. You press your free hand to your mouth to keep any more embarrassingly girlish noises from escaping again. When you finally have the whole plug in, you give yourself a minute to adjust before getting off of your bed. It feels a little strange, but you know you’ll get used to the invasion in a little bit. Just like last night.

Padding quickly into the living room, you reach the little closet off of the kitchen. Opening it you push aside old coats, before finding what you were looking for. You grab the ironic frilly, black and white maid apron that your Bro bought a few years ago. You can’t actually remember if he’s worn it for more than the night that it arrived in the mail. You tie the laces into a neat bow and have a love-hate relationship with how you look in it. Bro just looked hilarious, but it almost _flatters_ your body. You let a little grimace break your expression at that idea and head right into the kitchen to begin working.

 

You barely make out the sound of Bro’s alarm clock over the sizzling of the bacon and pancakes in the pans. The smell has filled the apartment and your stomach lets out another growl. You start cracking eggs into a third pan, careful not to get any shell in them. You flip over the bacon with a fork and lay down a paper town over a plate to place them on when they’re done. You check the pancakes, flipping them as you listen to Bro slam his hand down on the offending clock. You’re certain he’s grumbling but can’t hear it over the commotion of breakfast. You quickly take the bacon out of the pad and drain the grease before setting the rest of the package to cook, dropping them in there quickly and bouncing back to avoid the spray of hot oil. Over the past thirty minutes you’ve gotten pretty alright at dodging your tail and keeping it from getting under your feet. The cold tile would make a perfect slipping hazard and the last thing you need is to spill the entirety of this gourmet breakfast all the fuck all over the place.

The sound of footsteps down the hall causes a lurch in your chest as your heart begins to race. While you’re vaguely sure of the outcome, you’re not one hundred percent certain that Bro will be happy. He’s still just as hard to figure out as he’s ever been. If not, even more, now that you have these gay _emotions_ that cause you to be overly alert to whether or not you’re doing something wrong.

Well, you kinda always had that. But now you’re ten times worse.

You check the bottom of the egg and prepare to flip it as Bro opens the bathroom door. You always hated trying to fry an egg. Bro would flip them perfectly and you’d struggle not to break the yolk. You try to imitate your brother; so blindingly fast you’re pretty sure it’s not humanly possible.

It’s not nearly as fast as him, but you manage not to break the yolk. As you’re flipping the second one you hear the bathroom door open. You flip the third one as you hear faint grumbling over the sounds of the food. You flip the last egg and can feel eyes on you.

You don’t dare look behind you as you switch tasks. Pouring more batter into the griddle and flipping the last portion of bacon in the pan, you strain your ears to hear the very quiet footsteps on the tile. What the fuck is he? Some kind of overgrown hobbit? As you’re about to take the eggs off, you feel a hand ghosting over your back, hovering an inch above your ass.

You don’t stop what you’re doing, if you burn the food Bro will never let you forget it. You slip the spatula under the eggs and place them on a plate next to the bacon when they’re done. Without missing a beat you flip the pancakes over. They’re a perfect color and you let a small grin slip. You’re getting pretty alright at this. You remove the pan of bacon from the stove top and turn the burner off. Bro’s hand cups under one of your ass cheeks. You remove the bacon and drain the grease into the empty sauce jar you found hidden behind a bunch of throwing stars under the sink.

You feel Bro’s breath on your shoulder as his lips trace over the skin. You check the last of the pancakes; still too light. A hand snakes around your waist, running under the little apron skirt. It finds your dick already half hard. You can hear a sleepy, appreciative hum from Bro as he runs his thumb over the tip. You stop your hips from jerking forward and fucking into Bro’s hand. You take the pancakes off and add them to the stack. Bro’s hand lingers on your cock for a second before it trails back over your hip and squeezes it gently. He drops his hand and you turn towards him.

He’s shirtless, with a pair of jeans hanging loosely from his hips. He’s got no boxers on and you can see the bulge from his morning wood straining against the zipper of his pants. You know your own is lifting the little frilly skirt of the apron.

“You hungry?” you ask him; completely feigning ignorance of the situation. You watch Bro’s eyes drink in your body.

“I could eat,” he responds, his voice still rough and gravely from sleep. It’s like music to your ears.

“Good I got up at six am and made all these goddamn pancakes,” you tell him. You lead him to his side of the table and sit him down. Bring the plates of over, you put them down in the middle. You already set the table earlier. You’re not too bad at this domestic shit, if you’re honest with yourself.

You sit down at the table across from your brother and smooth the silky fabric of the apron over your boner. You gotta admit, that kinda feels nice. You don’t let it show on your face, though. The last thing you need is Bro ordering you silky panties and making you wear them around the house for him.

Maybe you do need that, though.

You watch Bro serve himself, though his eyes never leave you. He picks up the syrup and dumps nearly an entire bottle on his goddamn plate before he picks up his fork. You reach across the table and help yourself to what’s left. You’re pretty sure there’s another one in the cupboard anyway.

Bro digs in and you think he seems _surprised_ that it’s good. “This is pretty good lil man,” he confirms and your eyebrows arch downwards just a little. What a twat.

“Dude, I know how to cook,” you retort, shoving a piece of bacon in your mouth. It actually did come out a _little_ better than you thought it would. But he doesn’t need to know that.

You eat in silence for a bit. It’s kind of nice. You don’t really get much of a chance to spend regular, quality time with your brother. Even if this moment is slightly _tainted_ by your libido. Bro finishes before you and takes seconds of what’s left. You’ve eaten about as much as you want and lift your glass of apple juice to wash down your meal, when you nearly choke.

Vibrations shoot up your spine and your dick twitches beneath the little skirt as the plug in your ass comes to life. Holy shit, it feels ten times better than you remembered. A moan escapes your throat. One hand grips at the table while the other balls the maid skirt into a fist.

“B-Bro,” you groan, squeezing your eyes shut. “Shit, s-stop…” The pleasure is blinding, consuming. You need more, but you want him to turn it off at the same time. It’s almost painful how amazing it feels. You need him to stop; need more.

You crack your eyes open, see Bro leaning on one hand, the remote and an empty plate in front of him. His other hand is under the table and you hear the slow sound of a zip over the faint noise of the vibrations coming from the plug. The combination of the sound and the thought of Bro jerking it to you surges more pleasure straight through your body and right into the depths of your stomach.

Bro presses something on the remote and vibrations grow more powerful inside of you. You arch your back, pressing yourself down into it; fuck it’s hitting you perfectly now. Tiny little noises of need begin to pour from your throat and Bro turns the vibrations back down.

“H-Hey!” the single word struggles to come out of your throat. Bro grins across the table, his arm moving slightly. You know those wonderful fingers are sliding over his cock and you let out another moan of desperate need. The vibrations are just strong enough to give you some form of stimulation, yet weak enough to keep you right on the edge.

“Can’t let you get off before me, now can I?” he asks from across the table.

You want to slap that smirk right off his face as the he spikes the vibrations up and back down again. Fine, you can provide other forms of pleasure if he wants to be a little bitch about it. Your hand reaches for your dick and Bro turns the vibrations up higher than you ever felt and you let out a high pitched noise that you can’t identify. It’s too much; your toes curl and your fingers clench into a fist. He turns it down back to almost nonexistent; not nearly enough.

“Hands where I can see them,” he grins, his arm moving faster as he takes in your displeasure. Sometimes you really, really hate Bro. You put your hands on the top of the table and he makes a little noise of approval. “Good boy,” he coos out and rewards you with another round of powerful vibrations straight into your prostate. You double over a little and your nails scratch against the wood of the table. You know they’ve left little grooves that Bro will yell at you for, for all eternity. But it’s his fault and he has no right.

You bite your lip and stifle your pathetic, little noises. Your dick twitches in need to be touched, but you don’t dare move your hands. The last thing you need is to be punished and have this drawn out even longer.

As if Bro could read your mind, (you’re pretty sure he can), he turns down the vibrations. You grit your teeth and look him in the eyes.

“C’mere,” he motions you over. You get up quickly; nearly fall face first when he amps up the plug. A hiss breaks through your teeth as you struggle forward. Looking down, you see Bro’s cock in his hand. It’s thick and shiny with precum. You want to kick yourself for the first instinct of dropping to your knees and taking it in your mouth. Bro’s turned you into such a slut.

Or maybe you did it to yourself.

He turns down the vibrations and reaches an arm out, wrapping it around your narrow waist and dragging you onto his lap. He takes a moment to adjust you on his lap before lining his cock up with yours. He takes them both in his large hands and drags upward. The friction of his dick on yours drives you wild. It’s just barely enough pleasure to offset the underwhelming vibrations in your ass. Your hands drag over your brother’s arms and around his shoulders, finding purchase to keep yourself balanced.

His free hand turns the vibrations up just a little and your fingernails dig into his skin. A miniscule noise comes from Bro’s throat and you think it might be a good noise. The pleasure doubles when his wrist twists a little around the heads of your dicks. You know at this rate you won’t last long, but you don’t dare tell him. You’re beginning to need release more than anything ever in your life. It coils tight in your stomach and drives you mad.

It takes a second before you realize you’re inches away from Bro’s mouth. With one of your mouth’s usually being completely filled, you don’t get an occasion to actually kiss him. You bring your mouth to Bro’s and catch his lips with yours. They’re hot and inviting as he tilts his head a little. Your hands reach up to tangle in his hair as you deepen the kiss, your tongue moving quickly into his mouth.

A deep groan breaks the kiss as he turns the vibrations up once more, your fingers yanking at his hair. The plug almost feels like it’s moving in a whole different way than you’ve felt before. You snag his tongue in between your teeth, letting go after a short moment. You need air, need friction, need Bro to go faster. You pull away from Bro’s lips and rest your head on his shoulder as he pumps your dicks together. “Shit,” you whisper against his skin as you grind your hips forward, trying to get as much as you can.

You don’t think you can take much more of this and you look up at Bro. You bite your lip as he quirks an eyebrow at you. “C-Can I come… Master?” you can’t stop the blush that burns against your cheeks. Still not used to this whole petplay and verbalizing shit. But you need to; bad. And you figure he’ll let you, if you do what you’re supposed to.

But he shoots you down with a big, fat, “No.”

Your eyes widen just a little. You weren’t really expecting it. But why didn’t you? He’s a total fucking asshole. Especially when it comes to things like this.

“I told you already, lil man,” he smiles at you. You could just punch the smug off his face and there’d still be plenty to go around. “Not before me.” The vibrations spike again and then are turned down unmercifully low.

Bro jerks the both of you off for a few more agonizing moments before you’re pushing away from him. He lets you go easily, but his eyebrow quirks. He’s about to say something when you kneel down in front of him and press in between his thighs. The fabric of his pants feels scratchy on your face as you rub your cheek on this inside of his leg. You stop your mouth right in front of his cock, bringing your hand up to wrap around it. You press it against your lips and begin to purr. Bro’s hand reaches down and tangles in your hair and applies a gentle pressure, urging you on.

You take the head in your mouth and prepare your gag reflex as you try to take as much of him in as you can. It’s difficult, but bless you, you try. You pull your head up and drop back down, taking in a little bit more. Each time earns you a fraction higher from the vibrations coming from the plug.

You get most of him in your throat when he cranks the plug up, causing you to choke on several inches of cock. Pulling off quickly, you cough a little, moaning as you feel your stomach drop and coil into knots as your body threatens to blow your load right then and there.  

“Don’t you dare,” you hear him, his voice gruff as he gives your head a gentle, yet commanding shove back towards the head of his dick. You lick your lips and grip at the leg of his jeans, forcing yourself not to let go. You take him back into your mouth, down into your throat again. Your tongue runs along the underside of his cock as you move your head up and down. You groan around him as your body threatens to relinquish control. As your head comes back up, you pull your mouth off. You’re about to ask him one more time, but when you look up you can tell it won’t matter. He’s staring down at you; you open your mouth and flick your tongue over the sensitive underside of the head. Bro brings his hand down and rubs his thumb over your lips. You run your tongue over the same spot again, when Bro stills your head.

“Stay just like that,” he demands. Confused, your eyebrows knit together, but you don’t ask. You hold your mouth open, your tongue held out underneath his cock as he begins to jerk himself off. The plug begins to vibrate at the same intensity from before; overwhelmingly fast.

Thank god, this is it. You just have to hold on longer than Bro. Whines escape your throat as your eyes follow each antagonizing movement of his hand.

Bro gives a low groan before you feel hot cum splatter over your face and lips, some spilling into your mouth. It takes you less than a millisecond before you’re painting the underside of the apron with your own jizz. The vibrations slowly come down as you ride through the intensity of the orgasm, before they finally stop. You feel Bro’s hand card through your hair, softly petting your head. He uses the paper towel to wipe the cum off your face. It smells like bacon grease and a faint thought runs through your mind; great now you’re gonna get pimples.

Your head falls to the side, resting against his thigh as you pant. Your eyes droop at the gentle pleasure of Bro’s attentions. You can feel Bro tuck himself back into his jeans. “You just gonna sleep on the floor then?” he sighs a little.

“I can’t get up,” you admit. Besides that, you probably _could_ sleep on the tile floor. It’s cool and inviting, somehow. You’re sure you would regret it later. Fortunately for you – being the gentleman he _can be, sometimes_ – Bro picks you up off the floor and takes you into his bedroom. He drops you gently onto the bed before untying the apron and balling it up and tossing it in the clothes pile. You watch him watching you for a moment and in a sex induced haze you wonder what he’s thinking; what he’s feeling. Your eyes shut just as his blurry frame moves.

He leans down and kisses your temple as he pulls the blanket up around you.

You look up at him, furrowing your brow. “You’re not coming to bed?” You want to shove your fist into your mouth at how pathetic you sound.

A soft chuckle comes from his mouth. “Don’t be a little bitch. Someone’s gotta clean up the mess _you_ made.”

“You fucking serious dude? I made _you_ breakfast,” you growl from under the covers. Sleep is claiming you quickly. Bro really yanked it out of you this time. “You’re such an ungrateful dickwad,” you mumble as you nuzzle deeper into the blankets.

The last thing you register before sleep drags you under is a hand gently smoothing back your hair.

 


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter isn't that interesting! It's just filler, but it's needed! See you guys in two weeks! If you have anything you wanna say or talk about my ask is always open on tumblr!

It’s nearly three when you wake up. Bro is gone, probably at work. His pizza hat is gone, so you can only assume that’s where he is. The kitchen has been cleaned, much to your surprise. That’s not what actually gets you though. In the corner of the counter, by the microwave, Bro has placed your school papers. He’s filled them out himself. He got pretty much everything correct and you can’t believe he even knew half of this shit.

You’re the one who has been making doctor appointments and keeping your records for the past… forever. But you guess you’re wrong. Bro has too. You feel a warm feeling pool in your stomach as you stand there, flipping through the packet of papers.

There’s still a few weeks left of summer vacation, but you already feel like it’s over. In a week or two it’ll be time to go back to school shopping and then before you know it, you’ll be trapped in moldy smelling classrooms with moldy smelling teachers who have no idea what they’re talking about.

A sigh escapes your lips and you decide to go try talking to your friends again. After all, you want to make good on your promise that you’re done disappearing.

 

You hear Bro come through the door a few hours later. Rose wanted to talk about Bro, but you refused to discuss anything more than that you enjoy his company. Which you know she took note of and translated to what she thinks you (and what you probably) mean. Jade was super sweet and just rambled about all the things she wanted to talk to you about all summer. She sent you so many links and chastised you for not updating Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff. You had forgotten all about that dumb shit.

Wow, look at you. Dumb shit? It’s like you’re maturing or something.

John however refused to talk to you for more than two seconds. The minute you tried to ask him if you guys could talk about _the thing,_ he immediately told you he had to leave and signed off. Of course Rose and Jade told you not to worry, that he was just taking it harshly and needed some time to adjust.

You’ve never seen John this upset in your whole friendship. It punches a hole in your gut that you try to sew up. Of course it remains raw and stings every time he avoids you every day you get on.

 

 

There’s only two weeks left until vacation ends. Bro corners you one day and asks if you need to go shopping while licking a stripe up your neck and nibbling at your ear. His hands drift over your body and you try to focus while you make toast. You nod and he pops the toaster preemptively, before leading you back to his bedroom while you protest that you’re starving. You don’t try to stop him, you’re hungry in different ways.

 

The mall is crowded and Bro seems uncomfortable with you while shopping. You try things on without showing him and throw them on counters while Bro continues to charge things to a platinum card that people stare at when he hands it over. You know they’re all thinking that he stole it. Bro just works really hard. Well, sort of. That, and he knew exactly how to play to people’s fantasies. Smuppets are so fucking gross.

At Walmart, you throw a shit ton of notebooks and pens and school supplies into the cart. You pick out a plain backpack against Bro’s insistence you get the My Little Pony one. What the fuck were you, a five year old girl? That shit couldn’t even hold half the books you’d need to take to school, anyway.

Bro takes you out for dinner, and to an actual restaurant, instead of McDonalds. The food is delicious and you enjoy spending time with Bro that isn’t just in bed. You think he notices this, because he promises you that he’ll take you out more after he gives you an amazing blow job.

 

You continue to talk to your friends nearly every day, sliding yourself back into your old routine slowly. John still refuses to speak much. On occasion he will banter at you for a moment before realizing what he’s doing and immediately excuse himself for one reason or another. Bro can tell it’s got you down and he keeps telling you to “buck up” about it. It makes you grimace and you ask him if he could not, every time.

 

Finally, the night before the first day of school approaches. You feel all sorts of nervous and you approach Bro while he’s on his computer. You can tell he’s not working.

“Do you think we could go out tonight?” you ask him over his shoulder.

He swivels around to look at you, glancing at his watch and then back up at you. He looks like he might say no, but he watches your face, picking up on your anxiety. “Sure, it’s still early,” he shrugs and gives you a small grin.

“Okay you can pick wherever you want to go, I’ll go put on something.”

Bro puts his hand on your shoulder. “Put on your suit, and leave your shades” he tells you. You furrow your brow and look at him, a question on your tongue before you just turn to go do as he says. You wonder where he’s taking you.

You get your pants, shirt and vest on, before you go to put your tie on. You stare at it for a moment before realizing Bro’s always tied your tie. Normally you guys are in a hurry, so he just ties it and continues about his business, but you know he’s going to give you so much shit. You try for a moment to remember his hand movements, but it’s not doing you any favors. Finally you make the trek to his room with your tie in your hand.

“Uh, dude… I don’t,” you start, stopping when he turns around. He look at you for a second before he lets out an obnoxious laugh.

“You don’t know how to tie your own fuckin’ tie still?”

You nearly blush and look away. “No, you always do it. You never showed me.”

“That’s bullshit, dude.”

“You always do it when we’re in a rush and you tie it to tight and choke me out, you dick prick,” you glower back him.

He rolls his eyes and takes a step forward. “You’d know it if I choked you out,” he stares down at you. You hand him the tie, biting your lip at that comment, before he pops your collar up and places it around your neck.

“Just watch my hands, little man,” he tells you and you look down at his long, beautiful fingers. He’s not wearing his gloves. He begins to tie it and you try to follow the movements, but you’re getting distracted by the growing hard on in your pants. This shouldn’t be turning you on. You calm yourself and take a slow, deliberate breath, keeping your body in check. You’re able to observe him close up without him really noticing or caring. His lashes are so long and brush his cheeks each time he blinks. For being as old as he is, there’s hardly any wrinkles on his face, and his skin is so smooth. He really is kind of pretty.

You smirk. He would not approve of you calling him pretty.

When he’s finished tying your tie, you feel it being tugged as he pulls you forward by it. He bends down to meet your lips, and places his own gently on yours. Heat flares, your mind takes a second to catch up. It’s soft, slow, and filled with meaning held behind closed lips that may never breach the surface. You bring your hands up slowly and wrap your arms around his shoulder as he deepens the kiss. Fire surges through you and you press yourself closer. Fingers caress over your back in a manner that seems almost hesitant. Impossible.

It’s the most romantic thing you think you’ve experienced from Bro.

And in general.

It ends as quickly as it started and Bro’s detangling you from him.

“I thought you were hungry, kiddo,” he grins, but there’s something in his eyes and the way he says it that makes you wonder what’s behind his words.

“Right… food,” you mutter, wiping your lips with your thumb. You turn out his room and get your suit jacket, throwing on your converse. You don’t wear dress shoes. Never have, never will.

Bro rolls his eyes at this too, but you soon make your way down to the parking garage to get his nicer vehicle. You know he loves his truck, so wherever you guys are going must be high end.

He leads you to the rebuilt Charger that’s going to be yours one day. You get in quickly. You love this car and you know Bro enjoys driving it sometimes, but much prefers the truck he’s rebuilt a million times for the last twenty years. You practically grew up in that thing, so you got to admit you love it a little too.

“Ready?” he asks you as he turns the ignition.

“Where are we going?” you shrug casually; act as though you don’t care.

“You’ll see when get there,” he grins at you and pulls the seat belt over his body. You do as well and then Bro rips out of the garage and onto the street.

He drives the two of you deep into the city, the only sound in the car is the thrum of the engine and Bro humming to the radio that’s turned way down. He finally seems to find his destination and pulls into a drive way in front of a fancy Italian restaurant. You’ve heard of this place before and your mouth gapes a little. This place is hella expensive and fancy as fuck. You and Bro have no right to be in this place.

But here you are, standing next to Bro as he hands over his keys for them to valet park the car. You follow him in and he goes up to the reservation counter. Of course he doesn’t have one, but he slips the guy a few bills, (was that three hundred dollars?) and you find yourselves seated at a secluded table. No one can see you and Bro slides his hand up your leg under the table cloth. You fidget a little, feel so far from home in this place.

“Who’d have thought you were royalty?” you mock him.

“I am,” he replies simply as he looks over the wine list. When the waitress comes up to ask about drinks, she stalls and stares at the two of you, her face curiously assessing the both of yours. You furrow your brow a bit while he replies that he’d like a glass of something you’d never even heard of in your life. How does he even know about these things? You’re seeing a whole side of Bro you didn’t even contemplate existing. The waitress looks at you and smiles.

“I’ll have an Italian soda, orange, with cream,” you tell her and she walks away confirming they’ll be out soon.

The table cloth is made of a ritzy fabric that feels deliciously soft underneath your palms. You wonder if you can steal twenty and make them into bedsheets. Bro’s hand continues to rub on your leg and you shoot him a look.

“I do not need this in my life,” you whisper to him and he extracts your hand and laughs a little. You stare at the walls and art and all the things your eyes can take it. You’re glad the lighting is dim because it feels odd to be out in public without your shades. It makes you feel naked, almost. And you realize that must have been what the woman was staring at. It reminds you of the freshman coming into school this year and how they would be amazed at the unnatural freakiness that is your irises. Which is probably the only reason you get away with wearing shades in school.

That and Bro writes a letter every year (that gets ignored every year) that it’s part of your religion.

The waitress returns with the drinks and you continue to stare down at the menu. She tells you she’ll return shortly after offering a few quick suggestions. You thank her silently for giving you your time. You’re out of your element and certainly don’t speak Italian.

“What are you getting?” you look up and ask Bro. He’s sipping on the wine he’s ordered and shrugs.

“I figured we’d just split a pizza.”

You stare at him for a long moment. “You dragged me to a fancy Italian restaurant in the middle of downtown, that you slipped a couple hundred dollars to the host, so you could order a pizza?” Your face twists in in incredulity.

“What can I say, I treat my dates with class,” he grins at you and puts his hand back on your knee again.

Your face flushes and you sputter and stare even harder. _Date?_ Goddamn he’s in a mood tonight. You stir your soda and take a long sip of it as his fingertips caress your knee.

The waitress comes back and he withdraws his hand and collects the menus and orders you two a pizza with toppings you never even thought would go on a pizza. What the hell was even is guanchiale?

The pizza takes a while to come out and Bro entices you into conversation about school. He asks you what classes you’re taking, what you’re most excited about. You think this is the most you’ve talked about yourself in a very long time. You think you might really like this sort of attention.

The pizza finally arrives and holy fuck it’s so good. You don’t even wanna know how much it costs because you don’t want the guilt to weigh down your stomach. You want to die inside the pizza it’s so fucking choice.

You stuff yourself with as much as you can and take home the rest of the jumbo pizza. You’ll be eating the fuck out of that for breakfast. Bro drives home slowly and when you get into the apartment, you put away the pizza as he plops on the couch. You join him and spend a few lazy hours on the couch with him, tucked into his side. Finally Bro turns it off and you head to his bedroom.

Hands come up from behind and caress your front. The fingers nimbly loosen your tie and you feel yourself being pressed into. You can’t believe you spent all this time in a suit and didn’t even care.

“You look good in a suit, kitten,” he purrs into your ear, nibbling it. Despite yourself, you pop a boner almost immediately. To be honest with yourself, you had been thinking the same about Bro all night.

You turn around to face him and he presses you down onto the bed, stripping the suit jacket off of you. He pulls at your tie and nuzzles at your throat. His lips trail slowly down the exposed skin before you feel his hands cup your erection through your suit pants.

It doesn’t take long before he has you on your back, his mouth around your cock and forcing you to beg to come. Your suit shirt is unbuttoned, wrinkled to all hell. He’s got his own dick in his hand as he sucks you off. It doesn’t take long for you both to get off and before you know it, he’s crawling into bed beside you. You’re exhausted and full and pleased and you curl into him quickly.

You’re almost asleep when he plants a little kiss on your ear.

“Don’t worry so much about tomorrow, you’ll be fine,” he hums quietly.

Bro has been so odd tonight. It strikes you at the moment that you didn’t call him “master” once, and none of the usual toys were involved in tonight. Something stirs in your stomach as you nod and begin to drift off.

The question poses itself inside your foggy mind.

 

_How do you feel about Bro?_

_How does he feel about you?_

 

 

You hear alarms being set and let yourself drift into a dreamless, deep sleep.

You wake up to blaring beeps and let yourself out of Bro’s bed. He slams his hand down on the clock and rolls over, mumbles something about luck into the pillow before resuming his snoring. You feel sick as you pack your bags and loiter on Pesterchum.

Your friends wish you luck, even John, though it seems forced.

But things seem to be looking up and you feel a bit better about today. Maybe it won’t be that bad. You give a little smirk as you head out the front door.


End file.
